Somewhere
by RomanticDramadyGirl
Summary: Bruce Wayne can't let anyone in his life. That's just how it has to be. But there's something that keeps drawing him back to Ellie Harold, and, if he's not careful, she might get taken away from him, too. Chapter twenty, up!
1. Chapter One: Looking Back

**Title:** _Somewhere_

**Summary:** Boy meets girl, boy meets girl again, boy meets girl AGAIN… and then he finally gets her last name! But last names are just the beginning, in this story of mistaken identity, "connections," dimples, trust, and karaoke bars. Sometimes you need to go on a date before you can become friends, and sometimes you need to become someone's personal assistant before you can fall in love with them. Romantic action-adventure dramady. A bit like _Two Weeks Notice_, if you stand on your head and squint VERY hard. Title comes from the song of the same name. Listen, and you shall learn.

**Rating:** T

**Copyright:** I don't own anything. Except for Ellie. And her cat. And her friends… sort of.

**Chapter One: Looking Back**

The tapping on the glass made Bruce look up. His hair hung in his eyes, so he had to flick it out of the way to catch a glimpse of the little girl standing on the other side of the glass.

She was slightly chubby, sort of tall (for her age, of course), with a cute round face, pink cheeks, and dimples that made her look perpetually happy. The unruly brown curls sprouting out of her head only added to the cherub look. She smiled when he looked up at her, but his somber face made her happy look disappear immediately. Bruce found himself feeling sorry the look went away.

The next thing he knew, she was pulling her lower eyelids down and sticking out her tongue at him, making the most horrendous face a cute little five- or six-year-old girl could muster.

Bruce found himself almost laughing. The smile on his face seemed enough to make the girl happy, and she grinned back at him, the gap where her front tooth should be showing quite clearly. She turned to the curly-haired woman standing beside her, tugging on her sleeve.

"Mommy, why's that boy sad?" Bruce heard her ask through the thin glass. The woman turned away from the police officer she was talking to, to glance at him briefly, before smiling sadly down at her daughter.

"His mommy and daddy died, sweetie," the woman replied, avoiding Bruce's gaze as she turned back to the police officer.

The little girl turned back to Bruce and frowned. He saw a single tear slide down her cheek as she stared at him. He looked away to hide his own tears, coming back, as fresh as always, and, when he looked up, the girl and her mother had disappeared.

He turned to the door, as a policeman with a mustache wandered into the room, kneeling down in front of him, a sad look on his face.

-x-x-

Bruce slowly stepped out of the shadows a bit, to get a better look at what was going on in the courthouse entrance, when a young woman appeared out of nowhere. She quite obviously didn't see him (until it was too late) and ran into him.

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry," she murmured, looking up at him briefly. Bruce realized that she had been crying.

Aside from that, there was something familiar about her. She was slim, with a slightly round face and pink cheeks. Her short brown hair was curly, and her face had the look of dimples - if only she'd smile. She was probably about eighteen or nineteen.

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked, placing a hand tenderly on her arm. He felt himself somehow instinctively drawn to this stranger.

The girl tried to pull off a disconcerted look. "Yeah, I... well, no." For some reason, she felt like she could tell him the truth. "I'm not. I just came from the Chill trial..." She sighed, sniffling slightly. "What he did to those people is awful. I don't care what he's done; you can't redeem yourself from cold-blooded murder."

"Do you think he deserves to die?" Bruce asked, his voice sounding far off. The girl looked up at him, startled.

"Well... yeah, I guess. I mean... do unto others as you want done to you, y'know? I think everyone involved in a premeditated murder should get the death sentence. And he did it, beyond a shadow of a doubt." The girl sighed, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "Sorry, I probably sound totally stupid. Ranting to some total stranger."

"Actually, it's refreshing, away from all those people who think that it's okay for that man to get away with what he did," Bruce admitted. Maybe it was because she hadn't gotten a good look at him, or maybe it was because she didn't know what Bruce Wayne looked like; either way, she obviously didn't recognize him.

"Did you stay all the way through the trial?" he asked.

The girl shook her head, staring at the ground. "No. I left before it was halfway through. In disgust." She chuckled cynically, looking up at him. "Sorry, I'm babbling on without even introducing myself. I'm Ellie."

"Br…" Bruce held his tongue for a moment. "Brian." They shook hands.

"So, how are you connected to the trial?" she asked, cocking her head and shoving her hands into her pockets.

"I, uh… I'm a close friend of the family's," he replied. "I came for moral support."

"Oh. Yeah, I sorta did, too…" She looked slightly guilty.

"Did you know the Wayne's?" Bruce asked. Even though he distantly recognized Ellie, he knew that they'd never met through his family connections.

"Well… uh…" She rolled her eyes up to the sky, as if she'd find the courage to answer him there. "This is sort of embarrassing…" she muttered, biting her lip. "I… The Wayne's were killed when I was five, right? And my mom was the insurance agent who handled their case… she took me into the police station with her, and there was this little boy sitting in this room, all by himself, while people kept trying to take pictures."

Bruce was taken back to that day, twelve years ago, that had changed his life forever. Sitting in that chair, feeling more alone than ever. Looking up at the little girl, with the curly hair and chubby face, and the dimples…

"And I saw him, and it just made me so sad… I always had a soft spot for cute boys with freckles, even when I was five." She blushed. "So I made this funny face, to try and cheer him up. That's what my dad always did when I was sad." She smiled reminiscently. "And he smiled. Just for a second, but it was like… we had a connection, y'know? And I didn't find out until I was about thirteen that that was actually Bruce Wayne."

"I'm sure he really appreciated that," Bruce stated consolingly, his eyes becoming misty. "You were the only one there when he needed a smile the most."

"Well, he probably doesn't remember me anymore," she replied nonchalantly, brushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes. "I just thought that I should come and watch." Ellie shook her head. "I have to go now. Sorry. It was nice to meet you, though, Brian." She gave him a small smile, before dashing to the edge of the curb and catching a nearby cab.

Bruce sighed and made sure no one was watching him, slowly pulling the gun out from his pocket and staring at it. He checked to make sure it was loaded and pushed it into his sleeve, where no one would see it, but he'd be able to clearly point it at Chill. Rachel walked up behind him…


	2. Chapter Two: Trouble in Paradise

**Chapter Two: Trouble in Paradise**

"Oh my freakin' God, Ellie, have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Ellie Harold asked, looking up at her friend, Clara Roberts. Clara was a fair-skinned young woman, with freckles dusted across her face and pale blonde hair. She was currently out of breath and slightly flushed.

"Bruce Wayne is _here_. In Key Largo. And he's coming to _this_ bar!" Clara exclaimed, jumping up and down, wide-eyed. "You can finally meet the love of your life!"

Ellie rolled her eyes, brushing a piece of her bangs out of her eyes. "He's not the love of my life, stupid. I just have a healthy fixation on someone who I had a connection with when I was five."

"Yeah, sure, okay," Clara replied, grabbing Ellie's arm and pulling her to her feet. "Don't you want to meet him, though?"

"He's not even here yet!" Ellie exclaimed.

"How can you tell?"

"Do you see a huge crowd over by the entrance?" Ellie asked, gesturing around the bar they were in. It was totally open, with an excellent view of the ocean. Clara shook her head. "Then he's not here yet!"

"Oh my God! It's Bruce Wayne!" someone exclaimed. A large group gathered by the door as the billionaire entered, and Ellie looked to her friend matter-of-factly.

"I think he's here, Claire," she announced sardonically.

"Okay, okay, you win…" Clara rolled her eyes. Why did Ellie have to be right all the time? She was too much of a smart aleck and too annoying for her own good. Of course, if she were ever kidnapped, she'd get off just by talking her kidnapper's ear off. "I can't see him too well."

"They'll clear away soon enough, you just wait," Ellie replied, rolling her eyes and sitting back down at her seat. "People get bored with celebrities easily."

-x-x-

"All day long just takin' it easy,  
Layin' in the hammock where it's nice and breezy.  
Sleepin' off the night before,  
'Cause when the sun goes down, we'll be back for more.

When the sun goes down, we'll be groovin',  
When the sun goes down, we'll be feeling alright.  
When the sun sinks down over the water,  
Everything gets hotter when the sun goes down."

"Excuse me, may I cut in?" someone asked from behind Ellie. The man she was dancing with, a particularly cute NCIS agent by the name of Tony, looked up at the man who had asked to dance with her and smiled right away.

"Of course," he replied, dashing off to go tell his buddies that he'd just talked to Bruce Wayne. Ellie rolled her eyes and turned slowly to the man standing behind her.

"Why do I feel like a used pair of…?" The brunette trailed off as her eyes fell on the young man who wanted to dance with her. "Oh my God! Brian, right? What're you doing in Key Largo?"

"Just on a vacation," he replied quickly, smiling down at her. "Ellie, wasn't it? How about a dance?"

"Well… yeah. Sure." She grinned at him and rested her hand on his shoulder. "How long are you going to be here?" she asked, smiling up at him.

"Just a few more days. I've got to get back to Gotham soon."

"Oh! You're still living there. So, uh… what're you up to these days? In terms of work, I mean."

"Well, I, uh…" Bruce tried to fabricate something. "I'm in R and D, actually. For Wayne Enterprises."

"Oh, that's kind of cool. I'm still living there, too, actually. I'm working at a publishing company. I just applied for a couple jobs, though. One at Wayne Enterprises, actually, if you can believe it. As a sales rep."

The song ended, and everyone stopped dancing and clapped politely. Ellie turned to Bruce.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again, Brian. We should get together in Gotham some time… you'll know where to find me." She grinned.

"What's your last name?" he asked.

"Harold. There aren't that many Harold's in Gotham, are there?" she asked, walking back to the table Clara was sitting at.

She sat down and smiled over at Clara. It wasn't until she had sat there for several seconds that she realized Clara was staring at her in awe. Her mouth was moving, but no words were coming out.

"What?" Ellie asked vaguely, getting that sinking feeling she got when she knew she was so clueless that she didn't know what she was clueless about.

"You do know who you were dancing with, right?" the blonde asked quietly.

"Yeah, his name's Brian, I met him at the Chill trial…"

"Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…" Clara sighed, giving her a sympathetic look. "That's Bruce Wayne."

-x-x-

Ellie had no response. Actually, she did, but her response wasn't anything she would say or do to Clara.

Instead, she stood, grabbed her purse, and walked toward the exit. However, she took a slight detour on her way out. She veered for Bruce's table, where he was sitting with the two women he'd brought as dates. She stood in front of him and glared down.

"Brian…" He smiled up at her, and she smiled sweetly back. At the same time, she swung her foot back and brought it crashing into his shin, feeling very glad that she'd worn her round-toed black shoes that night. Without a single change of attitude, or anything else to say, she turned on her heel and marched out the door.

"Ellie…" Bruce called, stumbling out a few seconds behind her. "Ellie, wait, I need to tell you something…"

"Oh, is this where you tell me you're actually Bruce Wayne?" she asked, turning to him but continuing to walk towards her car. "Sorry, I already found out."

"I was going to tell you the last time I saw you, I just…"

Ellie only rolled her eyes and shoved her keys into the lock of her rented Jeep Wrangler, unlocking the car and climbing inside. Bruce leaned against it, clutching his shin, still in pain, as she started it.

"You just what? Huh? What did you 'just' do?" she asked loudly, angrily.

"You were the only person who'd talk to me like a normal person. I didn't want to scare you off by telling you who I was," he stated, panting slightly.

"Yeah, and I spilled my guts to you like a trusting third grader!" she retorted, rolling her eyes. "If I'd known it was you, I never would have embarrassed you by telling you about that time in the police station!" Ellie banged her head down on the steering wheel. "God, and I'm still just as naïve as when I was eighteen."

"But… I remembered that, Ellie. Just as much as you did. And you were the only person who agreed with me. If I'd told you who I was, would you have actually said all that stuff about Chill?"

Ellie blew air out of her mouth loudly, like a whale. Her bangs lifted off her forehead momentarily. In another situation, it would have been comical. "No…" she answered honestly, more quietly. "But that still doesn't change the fact that you lied to me!"

"I know, and I'm really, really sorry, but… a bit slow on the uptake, aren't we?" he asked, his grin enough to make any girl melt.

Except apparently Ellie. Her eyes narrowed to little more than slits, and she pulled out of the parking spot, so quickly that Bruce lost his balance and fell backwards, hitting his head on the ground (which was dirt, and not pavement, but it hurt, nevertheless).

"I hope your insurance'll cover that!"


	3. Chapter Three: Death By Profession

**Chapter Three: Death by Profession**

"I am so totally going to die."

This is what Ellie announced when she got back to her apartment in Gotham Sunday night, after checking her voice messages. Apparently, she had gotten a call Thursday afternoon. It was the sales manager for the technology division at Wayne Enterprises, informing her that she had been chose for the job she'd interviewed for, and she would start next week on Monday.

"I'm sure you'll be very happy working at Wayne Enterprises. Mr. Wayne has taken a particular interest in our division, and we have the honor of working with him often."

"Oh, Holy God in heaven above," Ellie groaned, slamming her head against the nearest solid object – her refrigerator door. "I mean, of all the places I interviewed… and they're the only ones that called me back." A black and white cat padded into the kitchen and stared up at the girl curiously.

"Why me?" the brunette asked, sliding to the tile floor. "It's like they backed me up against this wall and gave me no choice. It's like they're taunting me, poking me with a stick and laughing evilly." The cat meowed quietly. "Okay, so forget the stick metaphor."

Ellie got to her feet, brushing dirt off the seat of her pants, and grabbed her phone, quickly dialing a well-known number.

"Hello?"

"Alex, I have some totally horrible news."

"Oh, that Wayne guy died, didn't he?" Ellie's other best friend asked disconcertedly. "Well, I suppose this'll all come back to you somehow. After all, you are the one who crushed his foot and then nearly ran him over with your car, leaving him in the middle of an abandoned parking lot."

"You heard about that?"

"Clara called from the restaurant and told me."

"Okay, well, excuse me, but I did not get anywhere near to running over him, the parking lot was far from deserted, and he deserved to have his foot crushed. Thanks for reminding me, but that's not the problem." She shook her head. "Well, it kind of is, but…"

"Just spit it out, will ya!"

Ellie took a deep breath. "I just got a call from one of the places I interviewed. They said I'm hired."

"Yeah. And what's so bad about that?"

"It's Wayne Enterprises."

There was a moment's pause as Alex's brain processed this information, and then she burst out laughing.

"Oh, man." She sighed into the phone. "You've really gotten yourself into a big huge mess, y'know that?"

"'Snot funny, Alex," Ellie murmured, rolling her eyes. "He's gonna figure out it was me in, like, two days, and then there goes all my chances and a long and successful career."

"Ellie, think about it. It's a huge company, Bruce Wayne barely ever has any communication with it anyway…"

"Alex, it's the R and D department. Bruce Wayne spends about eighty percent of his time at Wayne Enterprises in the R and D department," Ellie stated miserably.

"Wow." Alex gave a low whistle. "You're totally screwed."

"Don't I know it." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Look, I've gotta go to sleep okay? I've been running on empty for, like five hours now, and this whole Bruce Wayne-slash-job thing…"

"Yeah, it's okay, Ellie." The brunette could almost see her friend's sympathetic smile over the phone. "Go sleep. God knows, you need it."

"Yeah." Ellie scoffed, getting to her feet. "If the world ends or hell freezes over come next Monday, you'll know who to blame."

"I'll pack a warm coat," Alex promised, hanging up.


	4. Chapter Four: Harsh Words and Apologies

**Chapter Four: In Which Harsh Words are Exchanged, and Someone Apologizes**

A week went by; the day of her new job came and went, and, still, no sign of Mr. Wayne. Ellie was beginning to think that the sales manager had been embellishing the division's importance, and was starting to feel comfortable in her first real job. Until the meeting, at least.

Ellie, having been told that it was a very important meeting, and that several of the company's top executives would be there, made sure to wear her nicest outfit, and spent an extra fifteen minutes that morning getting ready. She wanted to make the best impression possible, and if that meant having to use some feminine wiles along with some non-gender-specific smarts, then so be it. It wasn't a very feministic view to take, but she'd never really agreed with them, anyway.

Of course the thought that Bruce Wayne might be there crossed her mind. But only for a second, and then she remembered that there had been other times when she had thought he would come, and he hadn't. The thought left her mind so efficiently and completely that it didn't even leave skid marks. Which was perhaps not the best metaphor to use, given the situation.

Needless to say, when she walked into the conference room that afternoon, she was very surprised to find one Bruce Wayne, and several of his lackeys (no disrespect meant), sitting at the table, having already arrived. Her 'fight-or-flight' instincts told her to run, but her stiletto heels told her that was impossible. She was stuck for the entire meeting.

Luckily, though, he didn't seem to recognize her. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, the last time he'd seen her, it had been dark. Or maybe he wasn't used to seeing her in office clothing. At any rate, she managed to keep her head down and mouth shut, and she stayed relatively invisible for the entire meeting.

As everyone was getting up to leave, Ellie found herself staying behind, kept by the conversation she was having with the assistant manager. She found that, if she stood with her back to the head of the table, and cocked her head in a certain direction, it was impossible for anyone in that area to see her face.

Congratulating herself on a meeting well stuck-out, the brunette marched out of the room, but not before snagging her foot on a chair leg and sending her careening into the nearest person, sending her files flying everywhere.

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry," the brunette apologized quickly, as the person she had fallen into set her on the ground again and made sure she was steady. He (she could tell it was a 'he') smelled good and had a strong grip. "It's these stupid weak ankles."

Then she looked up. And this time, her weak ankles almost were her reason for falling down, as she realized she'd just fallen into none other than…

You guessed it, Bruce Wayne. Would there be a plot if it wasn't?

"Bri… Bru… Mr. Wayne," she stammered, acting as if she were just meeting him for the first time. "I'm so sorry I ran into you." She straightened, as if standing at attention. She didn't notice, but he never took his hands off of her. "At least you didn't drop your papers," she observed brightly with a grin, the eternal optimist.

"Miss… Ellie," he replied, staring down at her with something bordering between amusement and paranoia. "Glad to see you're doing well."

She stared up at him, as if to say 'So, we're going to do this in front of all these people?'

"And you too, Mr. Wayne," she replied, grinning falsely. "What has it been? Four years? Too long."

"One month, actually, I believe," he replied.

There was a moment when Ellie actually thought one of them was going to break down and start shouting at the other, but it never came. It was a stalemate; neither one would be the first to rush out, head down, cheeks red, caving in. So they just kept talking.

"And how's your foot doing?" Ellie asked.

"Much better, now that I had it in a cast."

This was a serious blow for Ellie. She'd actually put people in casts before, and for very embarrassing things. For example, when she was four, at daycare, an adult helped her across the balance beam. She tripped and fell, and the man, apparently unable to hold a chubby little girl, ended up in a cast. Another incident involved a table in kindergarten, but that one was still a little too fresh in her memory.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did you enjoy your vacation?"

"Most of it. And you?"

"Well, I ran into someone I wasn't very fond of. It sort of ruined the whole experience. But finding out I got the job here made me feel a lot better!" She smiled with false enthusiasm.

Throughout the conversation, as the two exchanged insulting remarks, the other gathered in the conference room watched, not exactly sure what they were witnessing. Was she a friend of his? An acquaintance? How long had they known each other? Who was this girl?

"Mr. Wayne, we have a very busy schedule," one of his aides pointed out quietly, hesitant to break up the interesting conversation. "Perhaps you could continue this conversation some other time?"

"I'm not sure if that'll be possible. I'm very busy with my job right now," Ellie huffed, turning on her heel and marching out of the room. The sudden attention of the others, brought to light, made her feel very self-conscious.

"I had no idea you knew Miss Harold, Mr. Wayne," Mr. Harding, the sales manager, stated, smiling widely at the owner. He was curious as to how, but held that question back.

"Yes, we go pretty far back…" Bruce replied quietly, watching as the brunette turned a corner. He found he was sad to see her go, and… guilty for saying what he had. "Almost eighteen years, actually."

Eighteen years… it had been eighteen years since his parents died. Eighteen years since he sat in a police station, crying, while photographers snapped pictures of him. Eighteen years since a chubby little girl had made him smile, just by making a funny face…

It had been eight years since a slim brunette had bumped into him on the street and poured his heart out to him. Eight years since he lied to her about who he was.

One month since he had gone to Key West for the weekend and gotten his foot stomped on. One month since he had nearly been run over by an angry young woman in a Jeep.

It had been thirty seconds since he had looked that girl in the eye and resented the fact that she was standing in front of him.

"Will you gentlemen excuse me for one moment?" he asked politely, ducking out of the conference room and hurrying down the hall at what he believed was an unhurried gait. He rounded the corner and almost broke into a sprint to catch up with Ellie.

"Miss Harold," he called casually, trying to draw her attention with the least amount of suspicion. Ellie turned, not recognizing the voice, and immediately regretted it. Now she couldn't ignore him. She stopped and waited for him to catch up to her.

"Yes, Mr. Wayne?" she asked politely, drawing her mouth into a grim slash.

"I was wondering if I could speak to you," Bruce said in and undertone. "Alone."

"But… I thought you had things you needed to do," the brunette replied, opening her eyes widely. It was obvious she wasn't making excuses.

Bruce shrugged. "I'm sure I can find a few moments to spare for you." He motioned for her to follow him. "I'll tell Mr. Harding that I just needed you for a few things. I'm sure he'll understand."

Ellie followed hesitantly, confused by his change of attitude towards her. He had been so cold only minutes earlier, and now he was acting like he wanted to have a pleasant chat with her. Why were men so confusing? Still, she remained silent as he led her through corridors and up elevators, until, at last, they reached a large executive office, with the name Lucius Fox on the door.

"This isn't your office," Ellie observed mildly, as he opened the door for her.

"Mr. Fox is a good friend of mine. I'm sure he won't mind if we borrow his office for a few minutes. And, seeing how we won't be able to get into my office without seventeen people noticing… this will have to do. Please, this will only take a minute." He ushered her in, closing the door behind him. He was so formal and polite that it was unnerving. "Go ahead; sit down." He fell into the seat behind the large desk, and Ellie slowly sat down in one of the leather-clad armchairs. "First of all, congratulations on getting the job."

"Oh, uh…" Ellie tucked a piece of hair behind her hear. "Thanks. I was… really glad to get it too."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, able to see through her polite lie. "Miss Harold, please. The minute you found out you had gotten the job you must have been thinking of ways to get out of it. Especially after what happened in Key West."

"Okay, so… maybe I was kind of frantic." She rolled her eyes. "Especially after Mr. Harding said in his message that you worked closely with the sales department." She smiled slightly. "I got the feeling he was embellishing."

Bruce smiled back. "Don't worry; he was. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Actually, the reason I asked you here, was to speak to you about Key West." Ellie sat up straight, suddenly alert. "First of all, I believe apologizes are in order."

The young woman sneered slightly. "Why should I apologize to you? You're the one who lied to me, and got me to talk to you about stuff that I shouldn't have."

"I meant that I owe you an apology."

"Oh." Ellie blushed, sinking down in her seat.

Bruce took a deep breath. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry that I lied to you, and led you to believe I was someone I wasn't. It was wrong of me. I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

Ellie smiled. "It's okay; I forgive you. At least I'll have a good story to tell my grandkids now." She grimaced suddenly. "I'm sorry for pounding your foot and almost running you over. I get a little… overly zealous when I'm angry."

"Completely understandable," he replied, smiling at her forgivingly. For a moment, Ellie was almost lost in the sight. He was so good-looking… but he was her boss. Bruce got to his feet. "To make it up to you, I'd like to take you out to dinner. On me."

She got to her feet, smiling apologetically. "I'd love to Mr. Wayne-"

"Bruce."

"Mr. Wayne," Ellie repeated slowly, emphatically. "But I don't think that would be a very good idea. Going out with my boss seems like a conflict of interests."

"I'm not really your boss; I just own the company," he pointed out quickly.

"Still…" Ellie conceded. "It's the principal of the matter. Maybe under different circumstances, but not these. I'm sorry." She truly seemed sorry as she slipped out the door.


	5. Chapter Five: Karma Comes in Two Forms

**Author's Note:** Okay, _quibbler_, here's the answer to your question: Clara is Ellie's friend's name; however, Ellie calls her Claire. This plays into the fact that Ellie calls her "Claire Bear" and "Lady Claire" (like the character from Michael Chrichton's Timeline).

As a more general author's note (although I've only had two or three people review so far), yes, this is like a romantic comedy at first. Remember, though, that this story is supposed to mirror real life, and it is a Batman story, so there will be a lot more drama/action-adventure later on in the story. I do hope, however, to maintain the same style of humor throughout the story. After all… "if she were ever kidnapped, she'd get off just by talking her kidnapper's ear off…" Wow, that sounds familiar. Where have I heard that before?

**Chapter Five: Karma Comes in Two Forms: Good and Bad**

"What do you guys think of Bruce Wayne?"

Clara and Alex exchanged glances across the table, eyebrows raising dangerously high as they turned to stare at their brunette friend. She grinned sheepishly and slid farther down in her seat, as if this would discourage their gazes.

"He's not very nice." Alex, a fellow brunette, asserted.

"I think he's scum."

"Geez, you guys are kind of harsh, don't you think?" Ellie asked, rolling her eyes exasperatedly.

"Excuse me, Ellie, did you forget how he lied to you about who he was?" Alex asked, cocking her eyebrows.

"No, I didn't, but what if… what if I just wasn't seeing the best of him?" Ellie asked pensively, looking up at them from beneath floppy bangs. "What if he had his reasons for doing what he did?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Everybody deserves a second chance. Sometimes we don't make the best first impressions. I mean, I know there've been times when I've needed a second chance, and no one gave it to me. What if that was, like… karma?"

"Oh, gosh." Clara rolled her eyes, groaning. "She's going into My Name is Earl mode again. Stop her! Before it's too late!"

"No, c'mon, guys… I'm serious. I find it hard to give people second chances. Maybe I need to give him another chance. It'll make up for what I've done in the past."

Alex was intrigued by this statement (even if she disagreed with the karma aspect). "Okay, let's say, hypothetically, you decide to give him a second chance. How would you? You haven't seen him since Key West."

Ellie quickly tried to come up with an excuse. She didn't want to tell them that she had seen him again. "What if I did it in my mind? Just returned to that place where I still thought I had a connection with him?"

Alex bit her lip thoughtfully. "I think… that's a good idea. Everyone does deserve a second chance. I mean, I've probably needed one a couple of times in my life, anyway."

"Yeah." Ellie grinned. "I've just been thinking about it a lot lately. I don't like thinking poorly of people, unless I feel like they deserve it. And I'm not sure if he deserves it."

"If that's what you want, Ellie," Clara replied, rolling her eyes. She was obviously too disgusted with him still to even entertain the thought of forgiving him for hurting her friend.

"Clara, has anything happened between you and that guy at your office?" Ellie asked nonchalantly.

"Which one?" Clara asked, interested by the sudden turn in the conversation.

"The, uh… the owner. The cute one? Has he asked you out yet?"

"What… what do you mean?"

"Well, you guys seemed to have a… thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Ellie replied, grinning slightly. "Would you date him if he asked you? Like, being the head of the company and everything?"

Clara snorted. "Well, yeah. I'd date any guy short of a Buddhist at this point." Clara had a serious problem with dating people who were of a different religion than her.

Ellie smiled inwardly, proud that she was able to get advice without actually asking for it. So Clara approved of dating a guy who was your superior.

"Really?" Alex asked, leaning forward. "I think that's weird. It totally ruins the work environment. And it kind of gives you an unfair advantage."

Ellie groaned inwardly. Conflicting opinions. That was just what she needed right now.

-x-x-

Bruce was troubled tonight. Well, he was always troubled, but this time it was for a different reason. It was a reason that didn't have to do with Wayne Enterprises, or Batman, or villains. It had to do with women.

Bruce always had a good supply of women. They came and they went, but all the ones who wanted him were the ones he wasn't really interested in. They were just the ones he was supposed to date, so he did, to keep up his billionaire playboy rouse.

But the ones he wanted… those were the smart ones. The ones who could see right through him. And they were few and far between. Actually, there had been none, since Rachel. Until Ellie, at least.

Ah, Ellie Harold. The reason for all this inner turmoil. If she would just go out with him, maybe he would feel a little better. He knew she excepted his apology, but it felt like it needed something else. Gifts just seemed impersonal. Then again, a date seemed selfish, but what else was he supposed to do? And so what if he indulged an ulterior motive in the process? At least _most_ of his intentions were selfless.

But there was just something about her. Maybe it was because they had a history. A very strange history, but it was better than none, anyway. She had always seemed to be there to pop up and make him feel like somebody understood him.

Rachel hadn't done that. She hadn't tried to understand, and that was, perhaps, what frustrated him most of all. After all, everyone needs to be understood by someone.

Maybe he was hoping for a miracle. But there was always that hope. After all, miracles happen when you believe.

He just had to start believing.


	6. Chapter Six: There Is A Brotherhood

**Chapter Six: Yes, There Really is a Brotherhood of Men**

Bruce had no idea why he was here. Why was he here? Shouldn't he be doing the things normal, good-looking, rich young men do? Like club hopping? No. He was sitting in a coffee shop (posing as a bar) that was, at the time, doubling as a karaoke stage.

"Come on, guys, someone raise your hand," the announcer commanded, staring at the crowd. The men all rolled their eyes. They were only there to watch the girls sing. "All right, I guess I'll have to pick myself." He walked into the crowd, searching for the least willing-looking man among the crowd. Meanwhile, Ellie made her way up to the stage, smoothing her skirt and grinning at several people she knew along the way.

"Go, Elle!" someone shouted from the back. She turned back and rolled her eyes, eliciting several chuckles from the crowd. It was obvious she knew all the usual customers, and even some that weren't regulars.

"How, about you, sir?" the announcer asked. No one could see whom he was talking to because it was so dark. "Aw, come on. Elle's real pretty."

"_Really_!" Ellie corrected, shouting over the heads of the crowd. The announcer rolled his eyes.

"Just use proper grammar when you talk to her," he added. The man seemed to agree. "All right, Elle! Look's like we've got your leading man!"

"He better be hot, Peter!" the young woman replied, tearing herself away from someone she had been talking to off stage, grabbing a microphone, and mounting the stage.

She was only visible for a split second before someone shouted "_Thriller_, Elle!" and she turned around, pretending to be Michael Jackson in the _Thriller_ music video.

By now the man had mounted the stage, and the two turned to look at each other. Complete silence filled the bar, although it wasn't ascertainable whether that was due to whom was on stage, or the way they were looking at each other.

"Ellie?" Bruce asked, staring at her, his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, her dark eyebrows floating dangerously high on her forehead.

He had no chance to reply, though, because the introduction began playing and lyrics came on the screen, and he was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he was singing karaoke to show tunes in front of people he'd never met before.

Ellie giggled as she laid eyes on the lyrics, covering her mouth with a mixture of amusement and surprise on her face.. This was even better than she could have planned. Singing to show tunes with Bruce Wayne… especially to this song? At least it would make for a good story to tell her grandchildren.

Bruce sighed, suddenly strangely glad he actually knew how to sing the song. He didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of Ellie… and everyone else, of course. "_You wait little girl on an empty stage for fate to turn the light on. Your life little girl is an empty page that men will want to write on._"

"_To write on…_" Ellie had a surprisingly good voice.

"_You are sixteen going on seventeen, baby, it's time to think. Better beware, be canny and careful. Baby you're on the brink. You are sixteen, going on seventeen. Fellows will fall in line. Eager young lads and rogues and cads will offer you food and wine._"

Ellie resisted a giggle. And billionaires too, apparently.

"_Totally unprepared are you to face a world of men. Timid and shy and scared are you of things beyond your kin. You need someone older an wiser, telling you what to do. I am seventeen going on eighteen: I'll take care of you._"

Ellie sighed, knowing it was her turn. Bruce hadn't been doing a very good job, so it fell upon her to carry the performance. After all, karaoke was about more than just singing. It was about entertaining.

"_I am sixteen going on seventeen; I know that I'm naïve. Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet and willingly I believe._" People laughed, as most knew this was true.

"_I am sixteen going on seventeen, innocent as a rose._" She walked over to Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder and looking up at him questiongingly. She was going to make this as hard for him as possible. "_Bachelor dandies, drinkers of brandies, what do I know of those?_" She circled him. "_Totally unprepared am I to face a world of men._" She drew her hand along his shoulders slowly, teasingly. "_Timid and shy and scared am I of things beyond my kin._"

She grabbed his hands, pulling him a little closer. "_I need someone older and wiser telling me what to do._" She leaned in, only inches from his face. "_You are seventeen going on eighteen; I'll depend on you._" She smiled as the music ended and the applause thundered, whispering in his ear, "It's okay, Mr. Wayne; I won't tell anyone about your dirty little secret." She let go of his hands and stepped a few feet away, grinning widely. Before he could speak another word to her, she bowed deeply and rushed off stage. He followed close behind, not wanting anymore attention than necessary.

"Ellie, wait," he shouted over the crowd, as she brushed past her table and rushed towards the back of the bar. She didn't hear him, but he followed her into the bathroom. It wasn't until then that she realized he was right behind her.

"This is a bathroom, Mr. Wayne," Ellie pointed out exasperatedly, placing her hands on her hips. "You're not supposed to follow people into bathrooms."

"Says who?" Bruce asked, placing his hand on the wall behind her and leaning in.

"Those are just the rules," she replied, resisting her first instinct to lean away form him, and standing her ground, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why can't I follow you into the bathroom?"

"Because it's rude! And you're in a _girl's_ bathroom!" The two watched as a college student walked by, ogling them confusedly.

"How're you doing?" Bruce asked, grinning at her widely.

"She's too young for you, Mr. Wayne," Ellie stated, smirking. "She's a sophomore in college."

"But you're not too young for me, are you, Miss Harold?" Bruce asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, that's another conversation all together, isn't it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as well. "But we've had it already, anyway. And you know how I feel about the subject."

"I was hoping to change your mind," he admitted.

"Can't move the mountain," she replied, shaking her head.

"Then Muhammad will have to come to the mountain."

"I don't like the connotations of that idiom in this situation, Mr. Wayne," she warned, raising her eyebrows threateningly.

"I didn't mean for it to be; I'm sorry." He looked around. "What's that smell? It's amazing." There was no one else nearby, or in the bathroom, for that matter.

"Well, I'm wearing perfume," Ellie pointed out, dusking her head and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Could you move please, Mr. Wayne?" she asked, sliding past him and marching back into the bar, finding her friends at their table. "I'm leaving guys, okay?"

"So early, Ellie?" a redhead, Lauren, asked, frowning.

"Yeah, I've got… work stuff to deal with." _Or avoid, depending on how you look at it._ She grabbed her purse off the table and left, followed closely by Bruce.

"Ellie… Ellie, wait," he called, catching up to her and easily matching her long strides. "Why won't you go out to dinner with me once?"

She rounded on him angrily. "Because…" Her expression softened. "Because it's exactly what I want!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up and walking away from him.

"You're not making any sense," Bruce pointed out, catching up to her again.

"Then let me make it _all_ clear for you," she replied mystically, waving her hands. "I've been dreaming of going out with you for eighteen years, right? Well, that also means I've built my expectations up _really_ high. And no one ever lives up to my super-high expectations, according to… well, pretty much _everyone_. So why would you be any different? Because you're _rich_? Because you think you know me?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you're just like everyone else. You can't fool me."

"I'm not trying to fool you; I'm trying to take you out on a date. We'll go somewhere where no one knows either one of us, I'll get you your favorite flowers… anything you want."

"Anything?" she asked hopefully, slowing down slightly.

"Anything."

"My favorite flower's a yellow rose. Pick me up at seven on Friday. I like Italian food; I don't want anything too fancy. You can figure out where I live – I work for you, don't I?" She grinned, kissing her palm and tapping his forehead with it. "I don't want to be seen kissing my boss," she explained, dashing to the edge of the curb and hailed a taxi.

"I'm not really your boss," he stated loudly.

"We've had this conversation," she replied mocking, as a yellow cab pulled up beside her. "See you at seven!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Author's Note:** Don't worry, children – Batman will show up eventually. And, until he does, there will be several allusions and references to him, so it won't seem like he doesn't exist. And he will play a much larger role in the coming chapters. But, for now, Ellie and Bruce need to establish their own relationship, so that when the time does come for Batman to show his face, there will be an added depth of complexity to the situation.

But for now… SHOW TUNES! My love, my life, my soul, fair show tunes. Quoting Bale scripture… er… I mean Shakespeare.

Spread the news! Tell all your friends! Everybody's doing it!


	7. Chapter Seven: Cute Children

**Chapter Seven: Cute Children**

The week passed by slowly. Ellie was jumpy and unable to focus, and so paranoid that she suspected everyone of knowing about her date when she spoke to them. Her friends had no idea why she was acting so tense, and she had no desire to tell them. She had no desire to tell anyone, and, yet, she needed to tell _someone_. But she didn't, because she was paranoid and thought it would get back to a tabloid somehow.

Friday rolled around, and Ellie found herself anxious for him to get to her apartment. She had bought a new outfit, done her hair and makeup… and all an hour before he was supposed to come.

There was a knock at her door, and she jumped up to get it. It was only six-forty-five; too early for Bruce to be there, but one could never tell. When she saw it was Alex, she initially was relieved, and then panicked when she imagined Alex not leaving before Bruce got there.

"Hey, Alex," Ellie greeted her friend.

"Hey. Why're you all dressed up? Going on a hot date, or something?" Alex asked, stepping into Ellie's apartment.

"Yeah, actually, I am," Ellie stated. "With a guy from work. But it's more like a business dinner, than anything. Totally informal. I mean, he'll probably wear jeans, or something. So it's… not really a date."

"After seven?"

"At seven."

"And you don't call that a date?" Alex shook her head. "If you go out with a guy to dinner after six-thirty, and you're dressed like that, then I think that qualifies as a one."

"Well, um…" Ellie wracked her brain for something to say. "I guess so. Doesn't really matter; he's cute anyway."

"Really? Can I meet him?"

"No," Ellie replied quickly. "Because… I don't know him that well and he might turn out to be a total weirdo or something and then it'll have been stupid for you to meet him. This way, you won't get an emotional attachment to anyone, or anything."

"Oh…" Alex nodded. "Well, I guess I'll get going now." Ellie walked her to the door, and watched as her friend walked down the hall. Just as she was about to turn the corner, Bruce appeared.

'Keep going,' Ellie mouthed, shaking her head and motioning for him to keep going past her door. 'Don't stop.' Alex looked, stunned, at Bruce, and then at Ellie, and mouthed, 'Beat him.' Ellie gave her a thumbs up as she disappeared around the corner. Once it was certain she was gone, Ellie called to Bruce.

"You can stop walking now."

"Who was that?" he asked, arriving at her door.

"My friend, Alex. I haven't exactly told her you'd apologized yet, so she might find it a little weird that you're showing up at my apartment right at the time that I'm supposed to have a date. Which she knows about."

"You told your friends about what happened?" Bruce asked, feeling mildly indignant.

"Well… yeah. I mean, Clara was there; she saw the whole thing. I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen. And if Clara knew then Alex needed to know. But those are the only two I told, and I know they won' t tell a soul. Can you hold on a minute? I have to go get my purse; I'll be back in a second." The minute she was behind her closed bedroom door, she slumped against the wall. "Why am I doing this?"

"What am I doing here?" Bruce asked himself, as he examined the pictures hanging on her walls. There were three people who showed up most frequently: an older couple, who seemed just the right age to be her parents; and a boy about ten years younger than her, possibly her brother.

And then he found it. _The_ picture. The picture that took him back eighteen years into the past, when he'd first laid eyes on the chubby six-year-old. It was like six-year-old Ellie was looking at him all over again… except she wasn't making a funny face.

"You don't want to look at _that_ picture," Ellie stated, popping out of nowhere and pulling him away from the picture. "You saw me back then; why do you need a picture to remember it by? Why do you need to remember I ever looked like that at all?"

Bruce grinned. "You didn't think you were cute back then?"

"Only if you find obese children cute."

"You weren't obese, you were…"

"Overweight."

"_Chubby_," Bruce corrected. "But some people just carry baby weight when they're younger."

"Baby weight that takes you seventeen years to lose?" Ellie asked doubtfully. "I don't think so. My parents used to pile my plate with food and then tell me to eat all of it. _Fast_. So I got used to eat lots of food really quickly." She sighed. "Anyway, enough about my troubled childhood. Are we gonna get going, or what?"

Ellie confused Bruce. He got the feeling that she wanted to talk about their… unique situation very badly, but felt as if she would be making him awkward by doing so. So, instead of actually bringing it up, she would gently brush against the subject, and then pull away from it quickly.

"Yeah, sure." He whipped out the yellow roses he had been holding for several minutes. "I almost forgot; these are for you."

"They're amazing," she sighed, burying her face in the bouquet and inhaling deeply. She put them in a vase.

"I guess we should get going; our reservation's for seven-thirty."

"Did you get a good Italian place, Mr. Wayne?"

"Why do you keep calling me that, Ellie?"

"Because… you're my superior and it's respectful?" she offered helpfully.

"Well, we," and at this he took her arm and threaded it around his, "are on a date now. And when we're on a date, I want you to call me Bruce. Okay?"

"Okay." She grinned and blushed, looking away for a moment to hide the fact that she was slightly flustered. "So where are we going, exactly?"

"If I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise," he replied, raising his eyebrows.

"What if I don't want to be surprise?" she asked.

"Then that's too bad," he stated severely, "because I'm paying."

-x-x-

She hadn't been right about the jeans, Ellie decided, when they slid into his car a few minutes later. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, something a New England girl like she could appreciate (and swoon over).

"How did you know I liked pink?" she asked, looking over at him as they sped down one of Gotham's less busy streets in his Mercedes. It was expensive but not too expensive, in a way that he could go out and enjoy an expensive car, but not attract a lot of attention with it.

Bruce glanced narrowly at her from the driver's seat. "_Ellie_." He gave her outfit a once-over. It wasn't entirely pink, but it certainly had an overall pink theme. "You wear something pink almost every time I see you. You were wearing pink the very first time I saw you."

"I was only six then," she reminded him, in a tone that meant once again that she wanted to skirt around the topic. "So, no butler tonight?" He shook his head. "And you don't have any bodyguards, or anything?"

He chuckled quietly, in a way that made Ellie suspect there was something he knew and she didn't. "No, no bodyguards. Let's just say… if I ever have any trouble, I can handle it on my own." Most people would have left it at that.

But not Ellie Harold. "Do you take some sort of self-defense class?"

"I practice regularly," he replied curtly, not entirely answering her question.

"Karate?"

"A little bit."

"Kempo? Jiu-Jitsu?" She rolled her eyes. "Come on, you've gotta give me _something_ here!"

"I dabble in a little bit of everything." He grinned. "Why are you suddenly so curious about me?"

"Well, we've sort of had this… _thing_ for the past eighteen years, and I get the feeling you know a lot more about me than I know about you. Plus, I'll bet if I read the papers – which I don't – most – or all – of the stuff they write about you isn't even true."

"You don't read the papers?" he asked, cocking his eyebrows. The brunette shook her head, frowning slightly. "Not a single one?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Well, you're a prime reason of why I don't read the paper. You can't rely on them anymore; they've become too biased and gotten too much of an agenda. I mean, either they're portraying you as a rich pretty-boy, or a blue-blood totalitarian snob! No one ever even touches on the fact that you run Wayne Enterprises expertly."

"You have a lot of opinions, don't you?"

"It's better than not having opinions at all," she pointed out.

"Not always, Ellie. Not always. Although, I have to say, it does make you a much better conversationalist. And then you really get into something, you start waving wildly." A little bit more color crept into her cheeks, and he laughed. "I'm sorry; did I touch on a soft spot?"

"No. I just think it's funny that you notice stuff about me that other people haven't. Some of the people I've known my entire life don't notice things that you do after being with me for ten minutes."

"Like how you talk with your hands? Or the way your bangs are too long, so you always have to push them out of the way? Or how, whenever you laugh, the edges of your eyes crinkle up a lot, and you get these two dimples in your cheeks?"

Ellie laughed, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. Her laugh was loud but not overly so, not fake or contrived; you _knew_ she meant it. "My brother always used to make fun of me for the eye thing."

"Is he the boy in the pictures?"

"Boy?"

"I noticed that there was one boy in a lot of the pictures. In some of the more recent ones, he looked about sixteen."

"Oh, yeah. That's my brother, Woody." She rolled her eyes as he went to open his mouth. "_Not_ like in _Toy Story_."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Author's Note:** I hope you guys enjoyed this. It's one of my favorite chapters (after chapter six!) because it brings the back story and tensions created by it back into play a little more sharply.

More coming soon! Woot!


	8. Chapter Eight: God Bless the Italians!

**Chapter Eight: God Bless the Italians!**

"Well, that's the most depressing thing I've ever seen."

The car was parked in front of the restaurant. It was in a small, abandoned-looking area, right on the outskirts of the city. The windows were only dimly lit, and it looked like it needed a fresh coat of paint and, possibly, some new management.

"What?" Bruce asked, following her gaze. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's just… kind of sad looking, don't you think?"

"Why don't you give it a try, Ellie?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. He got out of the car and opened her door for her. "You may be surprised. Sometimes things aren't always exactly what they look like." He held out his hand to help her out.

"Thanks." Ellie smiled, smoothing her pants as he closed the door behind her. "You're right," she stated, sighing slightly as they entered the restaurant. It was perfect for their situation: dimly lit, not crowded, and virtually unknown. But still clean; that was a major detail. "I guess I'm just a little uneasy today."

"Is this… Ellie Harold, actually conceding?" Bruce asked, imitating surprise.

"Why do you say it like that?" she asked curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you say it like you know that I don't often admit that I'm wrong. Which I don't; but, still, you haven't spent enough time around me to actually know that."

"I don't know. I could pretty much tell the minute you stood up in that conference room and said 'I have the utmost respect for you, but there are some things that need changing in this company.'"

"Oh, yeah. That." She blushed and chuckled quietly as they approached the host, a vaguely short, slightly round man that looked so Italian you half expected him to start kissing you on both cheeks and babbling in Italian.

"I have a reservation for Harold," Bruce informed him quietly. While the man was checking his list, Bruce turned back to Ellie. "I used your name; I hope that's okay."

"Its understandable, given the present situation," she admitted, shrugging. If this had been any other date with any other man, she would have feigned indignation, but going out with Bruce Wayne put her slightly out of her comfort zone, no matter how laid-back or down-to-earth he seemed to be.

"Follow me, please." The man smiled, grabbing two menus out of their holder, and leading them to a table at the back of the restaurant. When they finally settled in their seats, Ellie noticed the strange look Bruce was giving her.

"What?" she asked, smiling and leaning forward slightly. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, smiling. "Nothing. I'm just… thinking." Bruce sighed. "So who knows about this?"

"About what?"

"Tonight. You… with me."

"Oh." She smiled weakly. "No one. I didn't tell anyone. My friends don't know, parents, grandparents, brother, cousins, miscellaneous aunts and uncles, people from work… I didn't tell anyone." Sighing, she explained without prompting. "Normally, I would tell everyone about something as exciting as this. But I thought… we needed privacy. I need privacy." She sighed again. "Why is it you can do this to me? Make me all… funny?"

He chuckled. "I don't think I know what you mean. Care to explain?"

"With other people, I'm fast and energetic and engaging. But when I'm with you, I feel like I have two personalities. And I'm not sure which is really me. Do you bring out the real me or do you make me push aside the real me?"

Bruce smiled. We have more in common than you think, he thought. "Maybe you're not one or the other. Maybe you're both. Sometimes we have parts of us that we don't know about until things happen in our lives that bring them out."

Ellie let out a long breath. "Okay, now that we've gotten over that nice philosophical discussion… have you heard what the dolphin said to the police?"

Bruce chuckled. "What? You don't like deep talks?"

"Not this early in a relationship." She bit her lip, gazing intently into his eyes, and he found it adorable and frightening all at the same time. The lip biting was adorable, but the way she could stare unwaveringly into him like that made him feel like she could see right through him. "I didn't do it on porpoise."

"What?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"That's what the dolphin said to the police: I didn't do it on porpoise. What do you call a car that eats other cars?"

"What?" He grinned.

"A carnnibal." She laughed. "I came up with the dolphin one; my brother came up with the car one. Pretty bad, huh?"

"Just don't quit your day job, okay?"

-x-x-

"-and that's why I will never work in the food industry again." The two shared a laugh as they slowly walked the stairs to Ellie's apartment – she had insisted on taking the stairs.

"I can't believe you live in this place," he stated, looking at the dark wood paneling around him. Ellie had noticed that he'd had three drinks, and took what he said with a grain of salt. "You work for Wayne Enterprises; don't we pay our employees well enough?"

"Well, it may not look great, but it's in pretty good shape. It's just older." The brunette shrugged, running her hand along the wall fondly. "And I get paid enough, thank you very much."

"Would you like to get paid more?" he asked, grinning.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling wistfully. "Who wouldn't?" They stopped in front of her door. "This is my stop." She fumbled with her keys for a second. "Do you need me to call you a cab? I don't think you should be driving."

"Could I just use your phone?" he asked. "I have someone who can driver me home."

"Okay. Sure." She smiled and nodded, unlocking the door and letting him into her apartment for the second time that night. "Go ahead and sit down." He placed himself carefully on the couch. "Do you want something to drink? Coffee, tea…" Or me? she thought, quickly brushing the thought aside. This was where she drew the line.

"I'll take some coffee."

"Yeah, coffee might be better," she admitted, handing him the phone before returning to the kitchen. "You may need the caffeine." And then something hit her: cell phone.

He had a cell phone; everyone had a cell phone. So why didn't he use his cell phone to call whoever he needed to? She would have let him wait inside until his ride came; he didn't have to lie to get into her apartment.

"Hello, Alfred?" Bruce asked from behind her. "I know I gave you the night off, but do you think you could pick me up?" He paused, laughed. "Yeah. Sure." He gave the person her address. "Just call me when you get here, okay?… Thanks." He hung up.

"Sorry if the coffee's a little stale," she apologized, handing him a steaming cup. "It's not exactly fresh; I'm using my batch from this morning."

"It's okay," he replied, taking a large gulp as she sat down beside him. "I'm not very picky."

"See, now, I am. I can't drink my coffee unless it has, like, two packets of sugar in it, and about a quarter of a cup of milk. I'm really weak." She laughed quietly at herself as Bruce set his mug down on the coffee table. "Coaster, please."

"Oh, yeah. Right." He placed a coaster underneath his cup, and leaned in, kissing her firmly on the mouth.

"You taste like coffee," Ellie stated, smiling. But her smile quickly fell. "Bruce, I know you want this to go further, and… I've gotta admit, I kind of do, too. But it can't, okay? Because… I don't crap where I eat, or however that saying goes. I think there's an expletive in there somewhere, isn't there?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "There is."

"Yeah, but, anyway… I think we should just stay friends."

"Friends with benefits?"

"No. Just friends. Unless I lose my job, or something." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't get any ideas."

"It's okay; I won't." His chuckle was weak, unconvincing.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just… disappointed." Bruce shrugged. "But I understand what you mean. I have nothing to lose; you do. And I need to respect that. I mean, there would be the whole media thing, and then everyone would know I was dating an employee. Even if we tried to keep it secret, it would somehow come out. And people at work would treat you differently."

"Wow, you really understand, don't you?" Ellie sighed, smiling. "It's like you know exactly where I'm coming from, or something. Like you can read my mind."

Bruce's cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket, flipping it open. "Bruce Wayne… All right, I'll be right down, Alfred." He closed his phone and smiled at Ellie. "Thank you for a wonderful evening." Rising to his feet, he walked to the door, the brunette right behind him. "I had a great time."

"Me too." She smiled, holding out her hand. "Friends?"

"Friends." He smiled back, shaking her hand and pulling her into a fast, friendly hug. "I'll see you again, I know."

"Yeah," she agreed. "You will. Bye." She waved as she closed the door. Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the door for a moment, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. Bounding over to the phone cradle, she plopped down on the couch and dialed a familiar number. "Clara? I have something to tell you… No! You can only tell Alex…"


	9. Chapter Nine: Friends, Right?

**Chapter Nine: Friends, Right?**

Two weeks later…

Below him, cars buzzed past. He watched as the train system rattled along its tracks. Something had to be done about it. Maybe something could be done, once…

The intercom buzzed. "Mr. Wayne, Ellie Harold is here to see you."

"Send her in," he replied, switching off the intercom. Seconds later, Ellie appeared in his doorway, looking as cheerfully apprehensive as ever.

"Hi, Bruce," she greeted him, waving slightly across the large office. "Wow. This is a big office." The brunette grinned. "I think my voice echoes a little bit in here."

"Oh, yeah. We get great acoustics in here," he replied, grinning right back at her. "Come on and sit down, Ellie." He watched as she set herself down gracefully in one of the chairs in front of his desk, carefully – almost instinctively – tucking her skirt beneath her so that there was no extra material allowing for her legs to drift apart. Obviously a girl who had been raised in a proper household.

"I don't think we should count this as seeing each other again," she stated, crossing her ankles. "Not since you set it up."

"Yeah." Chuckling quietly, he shook his head. How could she always make him laugh? "Do you have any idea why I asked you to meet with me today?"

"Not really," she admitted.

"I've been keeping a close eye on you over the past few weeks. I've been checking in with your supervisors every other day, and I've come to a conclusion about you place in this company."

Ellie felt her heart sink. He was going to fire her, wasn't he? And he was just doing it personally because they were on those kinds of terms. Maybe not close friends, but it seemed like the decision had come from him, so he obviously thought he should drop the bomb.

"Yeah?" she asked weakly.

"I like you, Ellie. You're opinionated, stubborn, and cheerful. When you take a stance, you stick to it. When you get involved in a project, you dive into it. Your bosses at R and D are very impressed with you."

Okay, so maybe she wasn't being fired. "They are?"

"They are. In fact, they're thinking about promoting you. Which is why I had to get to you first." Rising from his chair, Bruce leaned on the desk in front of her, so he could look her straight in the eye. "I think your talents are wasted in sales, Ellie. I mean, sure, you do a great job. But you could be in jobs a lot better than that."

"Uh-huh…" Her optimism was starting to flounder.

"Which is why…" He took a deep breath. "I want you to be my personal assistant."

"Really?" Her face exploded in a grin. "But don't you already have a secretary?"

"Well, she takes calls for the office and schedules appointments. If I hired you, then you would take over all of her work, plus you would have to communicate with executives, make phone calls for me, and just… assist me. Go where I'd go, do what I did."

"We could have the office line be routed to my cell phone. Then I could take office calls, even if we weren't in. I could schedule everything on a PDA…" She looked up at him quickly. "I wouldn't have to write your speeches, would I? I'm really good at making them up as I go, but if I have to sit down and write them, the magic's lost."

"No." He shook his head. "I write my own speeches."

"Really?"

"Of course." Bruce leaned forward. "What do you say, Ellie? You'll be paid at least double of what you're paid now. Double of what you would make if you got promoted." He raised his eyebrows, smiling encouragingly.

She looked up at him, crossing her legs slowly. Slowly, very slowly, he was melting her reservations even more. The line between bottom-of-the-rung employee and friend was starting to blur, leaving her feeling like she was at the edge of this unknown void, exciting and frightening all at the same time. But Ellie Harold had never been one the shy away from fear, a possible friend, or even better money.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm getting more than I bargained for?" she replied, throwing her hands into the air and smiling. "Fine; I'll take your job."

"Great!" He pulled her into a hug, another one of those hugs that wanted to be something more than it was: just a friendly hug.

"Just tell me where my desk is." She smiled. "And how much I'll be paid." Bruce laughed. "No, seriously, I want to know." He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Oh my- Are you serious? I could buy a house in California with that much a year!"

"I hope you don't."

"I won't." She laughed. "Don't worry."

"All right, then. How about lunch?"

Ellie cocked her eyebrows. "It's ten-thirty in the morning."

"Brunch?"

"I'm not a brunch kind of girl. Breakfast foods make me feel sick." She shook her head. "Besides, I have a lot of work to wrap up before I start working for you. How about a rain check?"

"Sure." Bruce stood to walk her to the door. "Thank you, Ellie. I really appreciate this."

"Your welcome. It'll be a pleasure to work for you."

"So…" They stopped at the door. "Friends, right?"

"Definitely. Friends." They shook hands, and Ellie slipped out the door.

He heard the faint ­_click-click-click_ of her stilettos on the tile floor as she walked away. It struck him that she didn't seem like the sort of person to wear stilettos, but there she was, wearing stilettos like she had been doing so her entire life.


	10. Chapter Ten: Convince Me

**Chapter Ten: Convince Me**

_Two months later…_

"Ellie."

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap…_

"Ellie."

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._ Pause. _Tap, tap, tap…_

"Ellie!"

"What?" the brunette asked, looking up from her computer. Pushing her reading glasses on to her head, she gazed over the monitor at Bruce.

"You were doing it again," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"You do that thing where you hunch over and type rapidly and you don't blink. And when people try to talk to you, you ignore them." She blinked, and the stinging left a single tear rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. "Where did you put those release forms?"

Ellie stared up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. "Oh, God… I'm sorry, Bruce. I didn't get them. I was going to, but there was all this traffic right along the city office, and I just decided to bypass…"

"Ellie, it's okay. I don't need them until Thursday. Just get them for me by Thursday, okay?" The young woman nodded, downtrodden. "This is the first time you've made a mistake in two months. You can afford it." She nodded again, and Bruce turned to go back into his office. Realizing something, he turned back to her. "You're really stressed out, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily, pushing her glasses back over her eyes. "I've almost finished closing the lease on my new apartment, but the owner keeps adding stuff to the contract. The lawyers are having a field day."

"That's right; you're moving into that new apartment uptown. When are you having your housewarming party?"

"I'm… not," she replied, looking as though she had been caught off-guard. "Are you supposed to throw housewarming parties for yourself? That seems conceited to me. It's like throwing yourself a surprise birthday party."

"Well, then I guess someone's just going to have to arrange one for you, aren't they?" Bruce smiled mysteriously as he retreated back into his office.

Ellie watched her boss go with the strange feeling that she was being taken care of somehow – and, yet, she dreaded it at the same time. Anything involving Bruce tended to get blown up, whether he liked it or not. _Somehow_.

The phone rang, breaking her out of her reverie. She pushed her cardigan sleeves up to her elbows, and answered the phone cheerily.

"Wayne Enterprises; Bruce Wayne's office. This is Ellie Harold speaking. How can I help you?"

"Hello, Ellie, this is Mr. Fox."

"Hi, Mr. Fox!" Ellie's smile was genuine, and he could hear it through the phone.

Mr. Fox was nice; she liked him. He visited Bruce in his office a lot, and he always stop to speak to her for a little while, like he was genuinely interested in her. Sometimes Bruce brought her down to the research and development department with him, and she would take notes while Bruce spoke to Mr. Fox about various projects he was working on. She always found them fascinating, having minored in physical science in college.

But then, sometimes, he didn't take her when he went.

"How are you?"

"I'm doing well. How are you? Is your apartment coming along fine?"

"I've finished painting it, but the owner keeps changing the conditions of the lease," she replied, leaning back in her swiveling office chair. "Do you want to talk to Mr. Wayne? He's in his office right now."

"All right; put me through. Tell him I'm calling about the new ground transport." Ellie put him on hold, and buzzed Bruce on the intercom.

"Bruce, Mr. Fox is on the phone for you. He's calling about the new ground transport."

"Good. Put him through."

-x-x-

It was Friday, and Ellie was glad. She had finally signed her lease, and was living off of a cot in her new apartment, slowly moving her belongings from the storage space she had rented to the apartment. It still smelled like fresh paint, but it had gone from the weird acrylic smell to the semi-dry, doughnut-like smell.

She sauntered down the corridor, thinking that finally, this weekend, she would start looking for furniture. Her old apartment had been much smaller, and what little furniture she had looked sparse and slightly dingy in her bright, clean flat.

Bruce had left early that day; he never left before she did. She found it strange, and somewhat unsettling. She was used to his routine, and even his occasional skipping out at social events. This new lack of routine confused her.

She slouched into her apartment, resting against the wall for a second before continuing down the short hall, to the living room. She made a mental note to get a small table and mirror for the space.

Stepping into the dark living room, she dropped her bag on the floor. It hit something, and she sensed that something move away. She brushed it off as her cat, and was in the process of yawning when the lights flicked on.

Ellie barely had time to blink when an entire crowd of familiar faces appeared around her, and shouted "Surprise!" very loudly and with much gusto. She screamed when Alex popped up right in front of her, backing up. She ran into someone and turned, only to find Bruce standing behind her, not wearing his usual suit but a tee shirt and jeans. She screamed again, this time because she was surprised to see _him_ there.

The room erupted in laughter as people converged on her, and they started chattering in unison.

"Nice apartment, Elles!"

"Great party!"

"Bruce, why do I have the feeling this has something to do with you?" Ellie asked, feigning anger as she turned on him and raised her fist, as if to strike him.

"Careful; I can defend myself against you," Bruce stated, grabbing her fist and pinning it behind her back. They had gotten to a point in their relationship where these sorts of joking threats and physical contact were become acceptable – both to the general public and certain friends of Ellie.

"I'm sure you could, Bruce." Ellie sighed, rolling her eyes as a tall young man with light brown haired trotted towards them, carrying a video camera.

"Holy crap, Ellie! You should have seen your face!" he laughed, quickly hugging her. "It was hilarious. And the scream-! I loved it!"

"Hey, Greg." Ellie blushed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "What's with the tape recorder?"

"Oh, I remembered how you said no one ever took pictures of you and stuff, so I figured I'd make an entire film revolving around you. That way, you can never say you feel left out." The camera was rolling as she turned a lovely shade of pink.

Alex saw the need for a subject change. "Ellie, I _love_ this apartment," she stated, throwing an arm around her friend and starting to steer her towards the bedroom. "But why don't we go get you into some more appropriate party attire, okay?"

"Sure…" Ellie smiled weakly as she was led into the bedroom, where several suitcases and boxes labeled "clothes" sat on the floor beside her bed.

Alex closed the door, staring at her friend. "What is going on here?" she asked, beginning to rummage around in the boxes for clothes. "I get a call from Bruce Wayne asking me to come to a housewarming party for you. Of course, I said yes, but I was surprised nevertheless!"

"Why?" the brunette asked confusedly, as she automatically pulled a shirt on over her head.

"Because I thought you hated the man, that's why!" Alex scoffed. "I mean, I didn't know you were on good terms with him, let alone _working for him_!"

"Yeah… there's a lot you don't know, isn't there?" Ellie asked, pulling on a pair of jeans. "Let's see, where do I start? Well, we went out on a date, decided we shouldn't take it any further, he asked me to be his personal assistant, and now… I think we're well on the way to becoming best friends!" She sighed. "And, to think: four months ago he was just some weird fantasy."

"You went on a date with him?"

"Does it matter?" Ellie shrugged. "We're not dating now." She stood, after pulling on socks and shoes. "So he organized this whole thing?" she asked, trotting off into the bathroom.

"I guess. Looks like he doesn't need you assisting him as much as you think."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence."

"I called a couple people, though. So I guess he didn't do it all on his own."

"Still… he obviously had to steal my phone to get that kind of information. Maybe even go through my purse." Ellie shrugged, reemerging from the bathroom with a fresh face of makeup on and her hair pinned up in an intricate know on the top of her head.

"And you… admire that?"

"It shows major initiative."

"Again… you admire that?"

"I admire the fact that he cares enough about me to throw a housewarming party, when no one else was apparently going to." Ellie gripped the doorframe, glaring her friend down angrily.

"Alright, I concede my point." Alex hung her head. "I see now how much better Bruce Wayne is than me."

"Not better, Alex." Ellie took her friends arm, leading her back to the living room. "Only… a little more thoughtful, in this case."

"Ellie, this is a great party!" Clara announced, scurrying past the two brunettes. "I'm having _so much fun_!"

"The party's only been going on for ten minutes, Claire." Ellie sighed. "She's been drinking coffee again, hasn't she?"

"She's not allowed to have coffee?" Greg asked, smiling guiltily as he popped up with his video camera once again.

"Well, as a general rule, we try to discourage any form of caffeine entering her body," Alex stated. "Although she is an adult-"

"Well, _technically_." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Not exactly mentally."

"Hey!" The blonde stopped her scurrying. "I drive and pay taxes and make my own doctor's appointments and everything! I am too an adult!"

"Are not."

"Am too!"

"Not exactly. But that's not a bad thing."

"Ellie, why didn't you tell us you were working for Mr. Wayne?" Clara asked suddenly, placing her hands on her hips.

The brunette chewed her bottom lip; well aware that Bruce's eyes were on her. How was she supposed to answer that in public? She had no qualms giving the reply when she didn't have to guard her answer, as she had with Alex, but when there were people's feelings she could potentially hurt, it was a whole different story.

"Can we talk about this later?" she asked quietly, leaning towards her friend.

"Yeah. Sure." Clara shook her head.

"Oh, my gosh! Nicole!" The young woman trotted over to a brunette about Ellie's height; Bruce followed close behind. "Nicole! You came! That's so cool!"

"Of course I came," the young woman replied, rolling her eyes and turning them on Bruce. "You're Bruce Wayne, aren't you?" she asked, her eyes widening. "How do you guys know each other?"

"We're friends."

"I work for him."

They glanced at each other and looked away abashedly, as if working for your friend was something to be feeling guilty about. Bruce was beginning to wonder why none of her friends knew how they knew each other or that she was working for him.

"That's cool. Working for your friend… so what do you do, Ellie? I mean, I know you said your job was kind of like being a secretary, but is it for Mr. Wayne?"

"Yeah. I'm his personal assistant."

"No kidding! Are you the girl in the pink hat?" asked Nicole, suddenly incredibly alert.

"What?"

"I just got that new job at the newspaper. We've been getting pictures for the past few weeks of Bruce Wayne," she turned to Bruce, "well, you – with a woman in a pink hat and dark sunglasses. No one's been able to identify her 'cause no one's seen her without her hat and sunglasses on. And she's _always_ with you."

"Yeah." Ellie sighed. "That sounds like me."

"Which part?"

"_Always with him_." The three laughed.

"So now you have the scoop," Bruce stated, smiling. "She's not Bruce Wayne's mystery girl – just Ellie." _You could have been my mystery girl, Ellie_.

"Excuse me, but I have to go mingle," Ellie stated, bowing out of the triumvirate and hoping to find some company besides the camera following her around and her boss's strange attachment to her.

She was in the middle of a conversation with a tall redhead and an Indian guy named Vijay when Bruce approached her again. This time, he didn't look at all happy. In fact, his face was flushed, and he seemed antsy.

"Ellie, can I talk to you?"

"Sure." She blinked back at him expectantly.

"_Alone_?"

"I guess." She turned to her other friends. "I'll be back in a minute." The other two nodded and carried on their conversation as Bruce led his assistant to a quiet corner.

"I'm really sorry, but I have to go."

"Really?" she asked, frowning. "But you put this all together. You should revel as long as you can."

"It's urgent. I promise." He smiled weakly. "I'm sorry." Even he felt like now he was just trying to placate her. And ease his ruffled conscience. "I wish I could stay." Looking into his eyes, she knew he meant it.

"I know," she admitted, sighing and looking down at her glass. "You didn't even get to see the roof, though."

"The roof?"

"There's a staircase at the back of the apartment that leads to the roof. That's the whole reason I got the apartment." She smiled guiltily. "Maybe later."

"Yeah. Later. Definitely." He pecked her quickly on the cheek, before rushing to the foyer and pulling on his coat. With a last quick glance back at he party he couldn't be a part of, he closed the door behind him.

"You look forlorn," Clara observed, when she walked up to her twenty seconds later. She had watched the entire exchange. Ellie stared at her perplexedly. "I was watching what happened."

"Oh. Yeah."

"He had to leave?"

"Yeah." The brunette sighed miserably.

"Business or personal?"

Ellie snorted. "How should I know? I didn't ask. I figured it was none of my business. If it was, he would have told me."

"You gonna be okay?"

A shrug. "I guess." Ellie bit her lip. "Why do I feel sad when he's gone, Claire?"

"I don't know. I…" She seemed like she wanted to say one thing, but changed her mind. "I don't know."

-x-x-

"Ellie?"

The brunette looked up hopefully at the sound of a male voice. She was on the roof, staring at the city from her high vantage point. She could see the Bat Signal from where she was; it was comforting, somehow. Even though it meant that there was crime going on somewhere.

"Hi, Greg."

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning on the rail beside her.

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied quietly.

"I don't have the camera on, I swear," he stated, holding up his hands. "See? I left it downstairs." He rolled his eyes. "Come on; you can tell me."

"I don't really know what there is to say," she began quietly. "I don't know why I'm sad because… I don't know if I'm really sad or not. It's weird." She rolled her eyes. "If I am sad, am I sad because Bruce left the party early? Or am I sad because he's just some weird reminder that I haven't been on a date in months."

"Well, I'm not sure if I _can_ help with either one of those," Greg began, smiling over at her. "But I would probably be willing to help with one."

Ellie blushed. She'd always had a little crush on Greg, and now, here he was, practically asking her out! "You don't have to do this just 'cause you feel sorry for me, Greggo."

"Actually, I've been trying to ask you out for week," he admitted, grinning sheepishly. "But I wanted to ask you in private, and it never seems like we we're together in private."

"Really?" The brunette smiled happily.

"Do I have to prove it to you?" he asked exasperatedly, leaning in and kissing her. "Well? Are you convinced now?"

She giggled quietly. "I think I might need more convincing," she stated, throwing her arms around his neck.

"That can be arranged…" He smiled as he leaned in again.

* * *

You guys seriously make me blush whenever I read those reviews. My dad makes fun of me when I get excited about reviews. You make me feel... so damn brilliant.

And who says those jokes were supposed to be stupid? Are you calling my jokes _stupid_? Maybe I shouldn't let you review my story, huh? How would you feel about that, suckuh?

Just kidding! I love reviews, especially from people who appreciate my intentionally-stupid jokes. My brother and I come up with them constantly.

Look for awesome cousins, delivery boys named Jimmy (I heart Jimmy Smith!), and random freak-outs over speeches. ANd reviews are much appreciated!

Eileen


	11. Chapter Eleven: Jimmy, oh Jimmy

**Chapter Eleven: Jimmy, oh Jimmy. Silly Boy.**

Bruce heard the phone ring in the next room. He heard Ellie fall back into her chair, and he heard her pick up the phone.

"_Bruce Wayne's office._" There was a pause. "_Greg!_" she squealed happily. "_You shouldn't call me at work._" Another pause. "_Of course we're still on for Thursday. Why wouldn't we be?… Oh. They're really sending you to Singapore?… You'll be gone all week?… Okay. Yeah. Next week. Definitely… Sure. Can't wait to see you. Bye._"

Bruce strolled to the door and opened it, standing there and carefully watching Ellie type.

"When am I meeting with the owner of Texaco?"

"Next Monday," she replied distractedly. There was a pregnant silence, on Bruce's part at least.

"So… you and Greg," he stated awkwardly. "He seems like a pretty nice guy."

"He is," she assured him, smiling. "I was up on my roof," She bit her lip, remembering the comment she had made about her roof right before he had left the party, "and he came up and told me he'd finally gotten the courage to ask me out. And then he kissed me."

"But you guys are just dating, right?"

"Well, we've been friends for so long, we just decided that we'd go on one date, and if it went well, then we'd become official. If it doesn't, then we'll just keep on being friends."

"Kind of like you and I."

"_You and me_," Ellie, always the Grammar Nazi, corrected, getting to her feet and walking over to the file cabinet. "And I knew I wasn't going to keep dating you, whether the date went well or not."

"Do you just not like dealing with me?"

She raised her eyebrows, crouching down beside the cabinet. It was a slightly suggestive pose, and perhaps gave Bruce a little bit of a view, but Ellie didn't mind. It was just flirting, not a relationship. Flirting and a relationship were two entirely different ballparks. "Bruce, would I have become your personal assistant if I didn't like 'dealing' with you?"

"I mean on a personal level."

"I'm at your house all the time."

"For business stuff."

"You take me out to lunch a lot and even sometimes dinner, and we don't talk about anything that has to do with work. You threw me a housewarming party."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot to give you your present. One minute; I have it in my office." Ellie stood up and watched as Bruce rushed into his office and returned seconds later with a small box.

"Bruce, really, you didn't have to get me anything…"

"No, really. I wanted to. You've been so great these past few months – really, you deserve it. Go ahead."

He watched eagerly as she untied the box. For a moment, he understood why some people enjoy giving as much as they do receiving. Ellie looked like a little kid on Christmas.

"It's a picture," she stated mildly, furrowing her eyebrows as she stared at it. It was a picture of a bedroom, with a bed and bedside tables and a vanity. "I don't get it."

"Well, I caught a peek of your bedroom when I was at your house," he began, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And I realized what a sorry state it was in. I mean, you're living off a cot! So I bought you a bedroom set."

"What?" she shrieked, standing up rigidly straight. "Please tell me you got it for, like, forty bucks at a yard sale, because if you bought an entire bedroom set for me and paid full price, you're just… crazy."

"Send me to a mental institution, then." He grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Oh, you're the best!" the brunette exclaimed, jumping up to wrap him in a fierce hug. "I can't believe you did this for me!" She still held on to him. "I'm going to owe you forever and ever."

"No, you're not," he replied quietly, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair, trying to memorize the scent. This might be the closest he got to Ellie for a long time. "Because you paid me back a long time ago."

She leaned back a little bit and studied his expression, confusion and thankfulness and a little bit of hope flitting across her face. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, Bruce. I'm not even sure if I do. But it must have been really good."

The room fell silent, and there was a moment when it seemed they were going to kiss. The mood was perfect: here she was, willingly in his arms and looking up at him adoringly. But now that he had his chance, he almost couldn't take it, because she was dating another man.

The double doors swung open, and a young man with headphones on burst into the office, pushing a mail cart. When he saw the two in each other's arms, his eyes bugged out.

"Oh, Miss Harold… sorry." He turned to leave as the two separated. "I didn't think you would be busy."

"It's okay, Jimmy." She smiled and walked over to him. "Got anything good today?"

"Uh… something from the owner of McDonalds, I think," he replied, handing her the largest stack of mail in the cart. "Do you have thumbtacks?"

"Thumbtacks?" She bit her lip. "One minute; let me check."

Jimmy smiled over at Bruce as Ellie began rifling through her drawers. "Hey, Mr. Wayne. What's up?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly. "Nothing's up."

"I saw you went out with that new Victoria's Secret model the other day. Good for you, man. Good for you."

Ellie tried very hard to repress a smile as she dropped some thumbtacks into Jimmy's hand. "Here you go. See you tomorrow. Bye." She watched as Jimmy left. "You know what Victoria's secret is, Bruce?" the brunette asked, rounding on him with a twinkle in her eye.

"Do I want to know?" He cringed.

"She's a man." Bruce grinned and rolled his eyes, sitting down in his chair. "Hey, Bruce?" Ellie asked hesitantly. "You know that charity ball we're going to in a couple months?"

"Yeah."

"Well, my cousin's coming to visit me that same week, and I think she'd really enjoy it, and I was kind of wondering if… if she could come with us. She seventeen and I think she'd like it a lot if she came along."

"Of course it would be okay, Ellie," he replied, surprised that she felt she needed to ask. "Which cousin is this?"

"The older one from Maine," she explained, a look of relief crossing her face. "Hannah."

"You know what? I'll even invite Hannah myself."

"Really?" Ellie asked excitedly. "She's been dying to meet you. You'll love her. She's just… one of the sweetest kids I know. And I know a lot, having a teenager for a brother." The brunette sighed happily. "You won't be able to get her off of you."

"I don't mind that," he replied, raising his eyebrows. "Two of you is twice as nice."

She shook her head and retreat outside the office, singing under her breath, "_Be glad that you are you, 'cause two of you would do, and that goes double is there were a few…_"

* * *

Reviews are the only thing that make me feel loved. So... please review.

Actually, I'm just kidding. But, seriously, _review_.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Of Babies and Cousins

**Chapter Twelve: Of Cousins and Babies**

"And… this is my apartment!" Ellie announced, leading her cousin in. "Feel free to look around and stuff."

"Wow!" the seventeen-year-old gasped. "It's huge! And it's so beautiful!" She turned to Ellie. "This is so awesome. I can't believe I get to spend two weeks here!"

"Oh, you think this is good now…" The older cousin shook her head. "You just wait."

"What?" Hannah asked, eyebrows furrowing. The doorbell sounded quietly.

"Gee, I wonder who that could be," Ellie wondered aloud, obviously faking unawareness. She scurried to the foyer (as only Ellie could do) and stood on tiptoe to gaze into the peephole. "Looks like your first surprise is here!" she announced, opening the door and letting Bruce in.

"Hi." Bruce gave her a big hug and turned to Hannah. "And this must be the famous cousin." He smiled and walked forward to shake the teenager's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Hannah, who had silently stared at Bruce in amazement until then, found the courage to stutter. "You're… you're not wearing a suit," she stated lamely, her eyes wide.

He chuckled quietly. "No… I don't usually wear suits outside the office."

"That's right," Ellie jumped in, nodding. "Sometimes he walks around in the nude." The two adults shared a laugh, but Hannah's eyes only grew wider. "Okay… I can see my humor's lost on you."

"I was told there would be food," Bruce stated, quickly trying to change the subject. "I've been saving up all day for it."

"Good. I hope you're really hungry, because I have lots of great…" Ellie threw the refrigerator door open and pulled out a half-filled Chinese food carton, "… leftovers." She was met with two pairs of displeased eyes; in fact, Bruce and Hannah shared a sideways glance. "Okay, so maybe I started marinating some steaks and made a sweet potato pie."

-x-x-

"I'm surprised you can make potato pie like this," Bruce stated with a fair amount of amazement as he wiped his mouth. "I thought you were from New England originally."

The brunette's wine glass stopped halfway to her mouth. "Are you discriminating against my cooking abilities based on the fact that I'm from New England?" she asked, setting her glass down angrily.

"No, that's not what I meant…"

Her hazel eyes narrowed angrily. "Because that's racist."

"No, it's not. Racist means you discriminate against someone based on their race."

Ellie rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Well… what's it called when you discriminate based on area of origin?"

"Does it matter?" he asked. "I mean that it's really good."

"Oh." She bit her lip and shrugged sheepishly, turning pink (or pinker). "Thanks." She winked at Hannah, then turned to smile at Bruce. "Want to tell her now?"

"Tell me what?" Hannah squeaked, glancing between the two, unable to keep her gaze on either one for more than a few seconds. "Oh my God! You're pregnant, aren't you?" Her eyes grew wide. "And it's his baby!"

Two forks clattered to their respective plates. Ellie hid her face in her hands and Bruce coughed, while simultaneously attempting to stifle a laugh. The teenager felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she watched Bruce and Ellie from down the table.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asked her employer feebly from behind her hands.

"I'll be okay," he stated, finally managing to get his piece of steak down.

"I'm not pregnant, Hannah," the elder cousin explained, turning accusingly to Hannah. "With anyone's baby."

"Oh." Hannah began turning a deep beet-like purple-ish red. "I… I'm sorry. I don't know why I jumped to that conclusion."

"It's okay." Bruce smiled at her, and she knew her apology was accepted. By him, at least. "Most of the newspapers think the same thing anyway. And most people believe what they read in newspapers."

"Just ask her, okay?" Ellie urged, still refusing to look at her cousin.

Bruce took a deep breath. "Hannah, I was wondering if you would like to accompany Ellie and me to a charity ball at the end of the week."

"Like… like with ball gowns, and everything?"

"Yes."

Hannah sucked in sharply and frowned. "Wow… I feel really stupid now."

"Yes, you should," Ellie snapped. Collecting the plates, she marched into the kitchen and dumped them in the sink. She stood there for a moment, clutching the edge. Bruce and Hannah exchanged a glance. "I need to go check on my flowers." She marched past the table and made her way towards the back of the apartment, to the spiral staircase that led to the roof.

"I… I didn't mean to hurt her feelings," Hannah stated, her brown eyes beginning to fill with tears. "I was sort of kidding."

"I know. Let me go talk to her."

-x-x-

"Ellie?" He found the brunette stretched across a bench under the canopy. "She didn't mean it like that."

"I know…" She pulled up her legs so he could sit next to her. "But it still makes me think…"

"About what?"

"About the fact that I'll be twenty-five in a few months and I'm nowhere close to being married."

"Ellie, it's the middle of spring and you're birthday's in December."

"It seems much closer than it really is," she countered, blushing slightly. "When I was a teenager I was always worried that I wouldn't get married, or even date, or anything…"

"You have Greg."

"Yeah…" She bit her lip, bringing herself up to a sitting position; it seemed like she wanted to say more, but couldn't bring herself to. A distant frown slowly spread over her face.

"What?" Bruce asked, cocking his eyebrows.

"Nothing." She pulled on a bright smile, shaking her head. "Nothing at all. I'm just having a mini panic attack. Biological clock stuff, and all." The brunette shrugged. "Talking about it helps, though. Thanks." As she reached down to touch her toes, she threw a genuine smile in his direction.

"Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Bruce…" Ellie raised her eyebrows at him incredulously. "This is me you're talking to. Of course I want to talk about other things. I want to talk about everything!" She laughed quietly at herself. "But we should go back in before Hannah starts to freak out and finds my TiVo."

"I'd be worried about her finding more than your TiVo…" Bruce ventured.

"Yeah. Too bad I forgot to hide that porn I have on my bedside table." She ran a hand through her hair, getting to her feet and starting for the door to the apartment.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he stated severely, catching up with her. It was a large rooftop, and they had been on the side opposite the door.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think I left my Playboy on your desk yesterday."

They stopped at the door, and she stared up at him. "I like you better this way… when people aren't around. And you just act like yourself."

"I act like myself all the time, Ellie."

"No, you don't. Most of the time, you act like Bruce Wayne, president of Wayne Enterprises."

"I am Bruce Wayne, president of Wayne Enterprises."

"No, you're not. Not really. You're just Bruce to me. Bruce Wayne, but without all the pretension."

"So using my last name gives me an air of pretension?" he asked, holding the door open for her.

"Oh, yeah." Descending the spiral staircase gracefully, she nodded. "I mean, it's the same for me. Ellie Harold? Makes me sound like a rich British person who goes to polo matches every Saturday." She paused. "Although I don't think I'd mind that life much."

The minute they appeared in the living room, Hannah latched on to her. "Ellie, I'm really, really, really sorry I said that! I know you'd never have sex with Bruce…"

Well, that's highly debatable, she thought, and immediately regretted it.

"… but sometimes I just say what I'm thinking without really thinking about it!" Hannah sighed exasperatedly. "I mean… that's not what I mean! What I mean is…"

"I know what you mean." Ellie squeezed her cousin tightly. "I forgive you."

"Good! 'Cause I was afraid you wouldn't let me go to the ball, or something."

"Glad so see you really mean it, Hannah," Ellie grumbled darkly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ha ha! Rooftop scene! Every Christian Bale story is incomplete without one. I mean, _Newsies_… it sort of sets a precedent. It's kind of funny, because Ellie's supposed to look a lot like Sarah (apart from the eyes), who is played by the actress Elle something-or-other… hm. Coincidence? Yeah.

My dad's kind of freaking me out, because he's playing Jimi Hendrix in my room on my guitar... weird.

Anyway, sorry about the wait. I've recently become a James Roday obsessee... that may explain some of the delay.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Cinderella, Part One

Author's Note: All right, folks... (ducks as rotten produce is thrown) I know, I know, I know. Sorry. But I have an excuse, I swear! Between work, school, and the tons of extracurriculars that materialized in front of me (not to mention the fact that I'm easily distracted: _Newsies_ and some original stuff, too) I've totally neglected this story. I feel awful, really. But I found this chapter lying around in the file! (smiles hopefully) I swear I'll write more. See? I'm going to do it, right now... well, as soon as I upload this chapter. I swear. Cheezit. Cheezit. (I heart you if you get that)

**Chapter Thirteen: Cinderella Dressed in… Pink, Part One**

"You're not doing it right!" Hannah complained, rolling her eyes.

"Not doing it _correctly_, dear," Ellie replied calmly.

"Well, you're not doing it _correctly_, either!" her cousin declared.

"Don't yell at me!" the brunette cried frantically, undoing the braid. "I can't handle it! I'm already freaking out enough because of the time limit! You should have given me time to practice! I don't work well under pressure! You can't do this to me!"

"She's right; she doesn't," Bruce admitted, sitting down on the couch across from them. He and Hannah shared a secretive grin.

"_Don't_ do that," Ellie commanded, pushing her cousin's head forward so that it pointed downward. The others found her command odd, since she hadn't looked at either one of them.

"Don't do what?" Hannah asked, feigning ignorance.

"Don't make fun of me when I'm not looking. You guys looked at each other; I know it." She bit her lip as she came to a tricky twist. "I'm like a mother; I can tell when things happen, even if I don't see them."

"That's why she's my personal assistant," Bruce pointed out. "She keeps me in line. See, Ellie, I did hire you for a reason, not just because I liked you."

"And I thought you were just a pretty face…"

"Ow!" Hannah's face was contorted in pain. "You pulled my hair."

"Don't be such a baby…" Finishing off the braid with a clear ponytail holder, she pulled Hannah's head up to its natural position. "There. How'd I do?" The girl felt her hair. "Show Bruce."

Hannah turned and showed him her hair. "What do you think, Mr. Wayne?"

"You look amazing." He grinned at her. "If you were six years older, I'd have to date you myself."

"Or hire you as his personal assistant," Ellie added, raising her eyebrows. "Why don't you go get your dress on?"

"Okay!" Hannah hopped to her feet and rushed into her room.

Ellie grinned over at Bruce. "Thanks for inviting her to the party. She's so excited about it. I don't think she's stopped talking about it since you asked her."

"Well, she is your cousin. Anything I can do for a friend." He raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you going to get ready? I mean, you're farther behind than Hannah, and you know how long she takes to get ready."

"Don't worry. I'll be done on time," she replied, rising slowly to her feet and taking her time walking to the hall. "Sure you'll be okay out here on your own?"

"Yeah; I'll be fine. I'll just sit here with your cat and watch some TV."

-x-x-

"What do you think?" Hannah asked, flouncing out into the living room and spinning so he could see her from every angle. "Will I fit in?"

Bruce rose to his feet. "If you stand out, it'll only be because you look so beautiful."

The girl's eyebrows furrowed. "Where's Ellie?"

"Waiting to make an entrance."

The two turned to the entrance of the hallway, where Ellie had just appeared from. Her dress was a forties era in a soft rosy pink that matched her cheeks. Her long hair hung down her back in waves that were not entirely natural, except the small amount secured to each side of her head.

"Ellie!" Hannah sighed.

Bruce grinned. "You look…"

"Amazing?" she asked seriously, cocking her eyebrows and throwing her hair over her shoulder. "Yes, I know." Her face exploded in a grin. "Are you two ready to go? We don't want to be _too_ fashionably late. That's very important. Is your car waiting downstairs?"

"Yeah." Bruce took her arm, lacing it through his and leading the two young women into the elevator that opened into Ellie's apartment. "What's the itinerary?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Ellie replied, pulling her PDA out of her small clutch and opening a file. "Okay, first there's arrivals. I want you to mingle a little; try to talk to an equal amount of conservatives and liberals; we don't want anyone thinking your partial." She rolled her eyes as they entered the parking garage. "Even though you _obviously_ are. Who isn't?" Bruce chuckled as they walked to the limo. The driver opened the door for them.

"You have a limo?" Hannah asked, staring at the stretch limousine in front of them. "That is _so_ cool! Where do you drive this?"

"Most of the time I drive myself, or Alfred drives me," Bruce admitted, shrugging. He traded an amused smile with Ellie. "I only use this every couple of months, when I go to big dinners."

"Wow…" Hannah marveled at the inside as she slid in. Ellie followed her, and Bruce was last, so that he could speak to his assistant.

"Okay," Ellie continued, "so after everyone's arrived, they're going to announce the contributors – you just have to go up there and look pretty when they call your name. Then you sit down, and there'll be dinner. We're sitting at a table with…" She squinted at her screen. "Commissioner Loeb…" Bruce groaned. "I know, but I didn't choose the seating arrangement, okay? It's a big table and he'll be at the opposite end. You barely have to talk to him."

He rolled his eyes. "_Fine_. Who else is at the table?"

"A couple of lawyers, the head of the board of education, a liberal Senator, and a conservative bank owner." She grinned up at him. "Wow. This'll be a fun crowd."

"What next?"

"After dinner, you'll be asked to give your speech. You do have your speech, don't you?"

Bruce's eyes widened. "What? I have to give a speech? You never told me that!"

"What!" Ellie shrieked, staring at him. "I've told you every day for the past two weeks! How could you not know? What are we going to do?" She started to breathe heavily. "How could you do this to me, Bruce?"

He started laughing. "I'm just kidding. I have my speech right here." He pulled note cards out of his pocket.

The brunette's eyes widened. "Why do you do this to me?" she whined, hitting him on the chest. _Hard_. "You know I'm a very panic-prone person. You're going to give me an ulcer." Hannah smiled as she watched the two.

"What happens after my speech?"

"More mingling. And I'm _told_ there's going to be some dancing." Ellie smiled at the car's two other occupants. "So we'll get our workout tonight."

"Huzzah!" Hannah cheered, punching her fist into the air – and hitting it on the roof of the limousine.

"I take it that's a family thing," Bruce stated, grinning in reference to Ellie's constant "Huzzah!"ing.

"What? The 'Huzzah!' or the clumsiness?" Ellie asked, grinning over at her younger cousin. "Because only one of them is a family thing. The other is a me thing that other people pick up."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

See? I did it! Yay! Read, review, lather, rinse, repeat. Please.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Cinderella, Part Two

**Chapter Fourteen: Cinderella Dressed in… Pink, Part Two**

"Can you carry her up?"

"Ellie, I can carry a teenage girl, okay?"

"Okay, fine." The brunette rolled her eyes as she held the door open from Bruce. He had Hannah in his arms, who had fallen asleep within seconds of entering the limo after the charity ball. The two who were awake stayed silent on the trip up the elevator trip, finding the courage to speak only when Hannah was safely in bed.

"She must have had a good time," Ellie explained, lowering her voice as they were still in the hallway next to Hannah's room.

"Or she was really bored," Bruce added, raising his eyebrows.

She chuckled quietly, grabbing his hand. "Come on; I'll make us some stale coffee." The living room was quiet and dark when Bruce walked in. While Ellie bustled around in the kitchen (he could hear her bare feet slapping quietly on the tile floor) he found one of her burned CDs (the songs on them never had anything in common: Ella Fitzgerald and Squeeze, Bob Hope and jazz) and shoved it into the stereo. Daniel Powter's Bad Day strained quietly from the speakers.

"I see you found out my dirty little secret."

Bruce jumped and turned to find Ellie standing right behind him, holding two mugs off coffee. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and her stockings had four runs in them, but she still looked beautiful; the only light came from the hallway and illuminated her brilliantly from behind. Silently receiving the coffee, he wondered how he had only found her "pretty" before.

"What dirty little secret?" he asked, once they were sitting comfortably on the couch.

"That sometimes I listen to songs made in the past twenty years." She smiled impishly and rolled her eyes guiltily. "Some songs are okay."

"What about this song?"

"This song is…" She sighed longingly, staring into her murky coffee. "Different. I'm not sure how. There's just something about it… it's sad, but happy at the same time. And have you seen the music video? It's really sweet."

"Bittersweet?" he clarified, though he had never seen it himself.

"Yeah. Like so many things we are." She sighed again, this time wistfully.

"You really are a writer, aren't you?" he asked, smiling. "Only writers say stuff like that. Everyone else would have just said 'yeah' and left it at that."

"Doesn't exactly make you normal, either," she pointed out, leaning back on the pillows. "Most people would have laughed when I said 'like so many things we are,' taking it as a joke."

He shook his head. "That's what makes me different from most people; I know when you're joking and when you're not."

"Yeah," she agreed, chuckling quietly. "I never realized that you could be so close and in tune with another person until I met you. But we're, like… on the same page. And who would have thought, you know? We're the two most unlikely people to become friends, a girl from Maine and a guy with his own multi-million dollar company. But, here we are, sitting in my living room and drinking stale coffee."

"In my defense, I didn't elect for the coffee to be stale," he reminded her, taking a sip of the beverage nevertheless.

"It's a pretty weak defense, darlin'," Ellie replied, suddenly donning her Southern accent. She seemed to be able to turn her accents on and off at will. "You better come up with something a little better before I pour this coffee down the back of your shirt."

"Another one of your veiled threats?"

"Veiled? I thought my distaste for you was blatantly obvious." The two laughed quietly and dropped into silence. In the air had the vague feeling of hidden emotions and unspoken thoughts, but the concept of "work" muffled all these, smothering them nearly to death. Nearly.

"I feel really lucky to have met you, Ellie," Bruce began. The brunette groaned inwardly; emotional revelations were the last thing she wanted to get involved with at one in the morning.

Still, understanding he was taking a leap of faith, Ellie phrased her response carefully. "Me too; I think you're one of the best friend's I've ever had." She glanced at him from the cover of her eyes. "And to think, I used to hate you."

"And to think, I used to think you hated me."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Ellie asked innocently.

"It might have had something to do with the fact that you almost ran me over."

The two chuckled reminiscently (the female one, perhaps, a bit more fondly than the male) and fell into a deep silence.

"How would you feel if… if we went on a double date?" Bruce asked quietly.

Ellie looked a bit shocked. "Well, I don't know about you, Bruce, but I kind of have a boyfriend right now."

"Oh, right. Greg. So you two decided to, you know…?"

"Yeah. He's…" she sighed, "a really nice guy. I'm lucky to have him."

"Are you happy?"

"What?"

"Are you happy?" he repeated, louder and with more emotion.

"Of course I'm happy. My life's perfect right now; it's everything I ever wanted it to be. Good job, nice house, nice boyfriend… I've got all I need to be happy."

"That doesn't mean you are happy."

"No," Ellie agreed placidly, glancing over at him. "I need to get some sleep."

"Yeah, and I should… leave you to your sleep." He got to his feet and walked to the foyer, pulling his coat on slowly. "Thank you for coming tonight."

She laughed. "I go with you everywhere; we're like Siamese twins. I can't avoid it."

"Yeah. Then maybe we should have coffee tomorrow." He paused in the open doorway.

"Sorry. Can't." She gestured towards the back of the apartment. "Still got Hannah, remember?"

"Right." He grinned. "You need to get rid of her as soon as possible."

_She shrugged. "I'm trying; I promise."_


	15. Chapter Fifteen: College Buddy, Hangover

**Note from Ze Author:** Oh, my gosh, guys! How could I forget you? How could I forget my first love, Batman? The first Halloween I went trick-or-treating, I was Batgirl. I was only three. That's commitment, no? Anyway, I'm boring you.

I feel horrible. I was so neglectful. Until I checked my e-mail today and got a review that said simply "I really like this. You really need to update sooner." It sounded so much like a polite death threat that I felt the immediate need to finish the gosh darn fifteenth chapter and give birth to some plot bunnies (this is totally figurative, I swear). Anyway, anyway... enjoy. I love y'all. Honestly, I do.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: College Buddies, A Hangover… _Animal House_, Anyone?**

"Are you okay?"

Ellie looked up Bruce. A piece of paper stuck to her where drool had trickled down her cheek, she still had her sunglasses on, and she was on her fourth cup of coffee. He could tell it was going to be a long day.

"Hang over?" he asked, smirking to himself as he hung his coat on the rack.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked, squinting as he opened the office blinds. "I'm the worst employee ever."

"Why?"

"Because I have a hangover."

"Actually, trying to murder me in my sleep would make you the worst employee ever," Bruce pointed out matter-of-factly. Ellie briefly wondered why this was the first thing that came to his mind. "Having a hangover just makes you human. You think the famous Bruce Wayne never got a hangover?"

"I think the famous Bruce Wayne never had to answer phones for a living."

"Any messages?"

"Four." The brunette handed him a sticky note with the aforementioned information. "And I have dance class tonight, so you're not allowed to keep me late again!"

"Okay. Fine." He sighed sadly. "I guess I'll have to watch Rachel Ray by myself again."

"You watch _The Rachel Ray Show_?" his employee asked, staring over at him with a disturbed expression on her face.

"No, I watch _Thirty Minute Meals_."

"My boss really is a loser," she sighed, whipping her sunglasses off as the office door opened and a tall man entered, looking very official in a trim suit. "Hi, how can I help you?" she asked brightly, all vestiges of a hangover gone from her countenance.

"I'm looking for Mr. Wayne," he stated, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"Do you have an appointment?" Ellie asked, her forehead creasing as she clicked through the calendar on the computer. "I don't remember anyone coming in this early…"

"Actually, I didn't call ahead. I guess I was just hoping he might have a few spare minutes, so early in the morning…" The man frowned and turned to leave.

"Wait!" she called. He turned back. "Mr. Wayne may have a few spare minutes between his calls. Just let me speak to him, and I'll get back to you." She slipped into Bruce's office and closed to door. "There's a man here who wants to speak to you," she announced in a whisper.

"What's his name?" Bruce asked, glancing up at her.

She bit her lip guiltily. "I forgot to ask…" He rolled his eyes. "Sorry, hangover! You're so forgiving. Thank you."

"What does he look like?"

"He's… about your height, light brown hair, dark eyes, kind of cute…" She shook her head to bring her back to reality. "Clean, polite and well-spoken, so I'm guessing not a vagrant." Bruce chuckled. "Should I tell him you can see him?"

"Sure; let him in."

Ellie slipped back out the door and smiled at the man. "Mr. Wayne has a little bit of time. Can I have your name, please?"

"Oh, yeah, right. I completely forgot to tell you. Brian Denton."

"I assume that's spelled phonetically," Ellie replied teasingly.

"Uh… yeah, it is." He rose to his feet as the brunette scribbled his name on a piece of paper.

Ellie opened the door to Bruce's office. "Brian Denton, Mr. Wayne," she announced, throwing the door open and moving aside so that Mr. Denton could pass by her into the office. She closed the door behind him, but was still able to hear the enthusiastic greetings coming from the next room over. She smiled to herself and was just sitting back down in her chair when Bruce rang for her over the intercom. "Yes?"

"_Come in here, Elle. I want you to meet Brian_."

"Sure." The two men sat grinning at each other as the brunette entered the large office. Both rose politely as she approached Bruce's desk; it was like being in civilized society.

"Brian, this is my personal assistant – and possibly one of my closest friends – Ellie Harold. Ellie, Brian and I went to college together." It took a moment of shaking his hand for realization to dawn on the woman.

"Oh! That Brian Denton!" she squealed, looking to Bruce for affirmation. "Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I didn't realize who you were. Bruce told me all about your exploits in college…"

"Nothing too explicit, I hope," Brian replied, laughing at her reaction.

"No, no, no. But… I mean… wow, this is so great!" Bruce and Brian traded amused glances. "I'm sorry; I don't really get to meet a lot of Bruce's friends."

"Brian and I were just discussing possibly going out to dinner tomorrow," offered Bruce.

"Oh, that's fine. You don't have any meetings scheduled for then. Unless you planned a date you didn't tell me about." She turned to Brian, smiling. "He's always skipping out on stuff to go on dates." She rolled her eyes. "With whom, I have no idea…"

Bruce cleared his throat loudly. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us."

"Really?" All vestiges of her hangover disappearing, she bounced on the balls of her feet happily. "I'd love that!"

Brian laughed at the giddy brunette in front of him. "Is she always like this?"

"Only when there's food involved," Bruce explained teasingly. "You should have seen her when we had a late night and ordered barbeque the other day."

"I get very happy about barbeque," she replied defensively. "You're just lucky I don't have a date with Greg tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn't be able to come."

"So you'll come?"

"Only if I get to wear a dress." Her joking smile was enough to allay them. "Just kidding!" Her face fell once more. "But, seriously, I really want to wear a dress."

"Alright, we'll go to Chez Quis." Brian noticed how Bruce conceded without much of a fight; almost like a father indulging his daughter, but… not quite. They had something between best friends, siblings, and father/daughter, all rolled together with large amounts of sexual tension. And that was just the first few minutes.

"_Ah! Chez Quis!_" Ellie exclaimed happily. "_Mais je suis toujours fidèle!_"

Bruce smiled. "Yes, you are."

* * *

Okay, that's it for this chapter, but there's one coming up real quick, I pwomise! I love you forever if you got my _Ferris Bueller_ or my _Kiss Me Kate_ reference. In the next chapter... the "date", the infidelity, and Batman will be showing up within the next few chapters (but not the next one, except maybe a strong allusion)! Review, my pretties!

If you want to know why it took me six months to post again, read on...

**Another Author's Note for You Loffly People:** Okay, get ready: author excuses. Where to begin? Um... I fell into a depression around the time of my last post because _Psych_ was no longer running, and I had to write fan fiction to fulfill my Roday-fix. No, actually... well, I'm a senior in high school, and things just got crazy for a few months. Then, my great-grandfather fell and broke his hip, and... everything went to hell all over again. He's okay now, but we've been busy with that for the past few months. College applicants... jeez, don't even get me started, unless you want a long rant about how public school guidance counselors are better than homeschool guidance counselors (sorta). Plus, I've recently fallen in love with some old school pimps (mainly Otter and Cameron Frye) and have been spending all my time daydreaming/writing about them.

Ow. My eyes hurt from staring at the computer.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Sweet and Bitter

**Author's Note: **Okay, so another quickly-written yet utterly brilliant chapter from yours truly. Hopefully, you like it. Prefferably, you love it. Ideally, you review it.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Sweetbreads and Bitter Kisses**

"Don't get the sweetbreads," Ellie whispered to Brian across the table, letting her menu drop down for a moment. "It's _pancreas_. As in, the organ that performs important bodily functions and metabolism, and secrets a thick, colorless liquid…"

The three were seated around a circular table at Chez Quis, directly in the middle of the restaurant (Bruce got the feeling the owners had done this on purpose, but none of the party seemed to mind). Bruce was glad to see that his friends were getting along so well, especially since he knew Ellie had been upset at Greg lately due to his almost constant absence. She needed someone who could be there for her.

"Ellie, stop quoting _Ferris Bueller_," Bruce hissed, barely able to hide his own smile as she recited the lines word-for-word.

"You like _Ferris Bueller_, too?" Brian asked, disbelief lacing his voice. "You really don't strike me as the kind of girl who watches those movies. Especially since they're a little before your time."

"Well, they're before _your_ time, too," she pointed out, grinning. "You're not very much older than me."

"Anyway, I mean that I kind of always thought _Ferris Bueller_ was more of a guy's film."

"Uh-uh. Have you _seen_ Cameron?" She nodded approvingly. "He's cute." She had a way of saying that simple two-word phrase that made her sound exactly like a thirteen-year-old girl (which wasn't hard, since that's what she sounded like most of the time).

"Please excuse her; she's boy crazy," Bruce interjected. Brian laughed.

"There's nothing wrong with that," he replied, smiling across the table at her. "It's much better than the alternative." Ellie traded an amused glance with Bruce and giggled quietly. She felt drunk, but hadn't even had half a glass of wine yet. Maybe she just felt very giddy because she was happy; happier than she'd been in a while.

"You remind me a little of Otter from _Animal House_," she admitted thoughtfully.

"It always has to be about movies with you, doesn't it?" Bruce asked impertinently.

"Well, if I don't use my superfluous knowledge of movies in everyday life, then what's the use in watching them?"

"But if you use the knowledge, then it's not superfluous," Brian pointed out.

"_Touchè_." The brunette raised her glass to him. "_Touchè_."

"_Touchè_," Bruce joined in, bringing his glass to the party. After glancing from one to the other slowly, Brian raised his glass.

"_Touchè_."

"I feel like I'm in a Three Musketeers meeting," Ellie observed, taking a sip of her wine. "Was that, like, a toast? Because I think Bruce should have made a speech."

"Yeah, come on, Bruce. Gives us a speech." Ellie's euphoria had quickly spread to both her companions.

"Something Romantic. And I mean the literary movement, not the genre."

"All right, well…" Bruce stared into his glass for a moment. "Thank you all for coming, I'm having a wonderful evening. I'd just like to say how honored I am to have friends like you two." He smiled warmly. "Here's to best friends." Glasses clinked and then there was a moment of silence as they sipped quietly.

"_Mais je suis toujours fidèle, darlin', in my fashion_," Ellie sang quietly. "_Je suis toujours fidèle, darlin', in my way._"

"That is the only French phrase you know, isn't it?" Bruce asked.

"Yes." She nodded curtly. "Aside from '_Je m'appelle Ellie'_ and '_Peux je aller à toilette, si vous plait?'_"

Brian laughed. "You only know how to say 'My name is Ellie' and 'May I go to the bathroom, please?' Did you take French in school?"

"Two years, in junior high. But it didn't really stick. And then I took two years of Spanish in high school, but that didn't fare much better. Truth be told, I probably speak better Latin, than French or Spanish. What languages do _you_ speak?" She raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"French, Italian, Spanish, German… not all that fluently, but I can carry my own in a conversation. I'm also learning Russian, at the moment, trying to get away from some of the Latin-based languages."

"Okay, over-achiever." Ellie rolled her eyes flirtatiously. "I get the point."

Bruce watched his two friends chatted and flirted. It was good to see Ellie enjoying herself with someone he respected so much; lately, he hadn't been impressed with the way Greg had been treating her. Even as he imagined his friends together, it sent a little jealous chill through his stomach. He quickly honed in on and quelled the feeling.

_She's just a friend, she's just a friend…_

-x-x-

"Well, this is my stop." Yawning widely, Ellie slid out the car, almost closing the door behind her.

"You know what?" Brian asked, keeping the door open. "My hotel's just a few blocks from here. Why don't I walk you up to your room, and then I can just walk to my hotel?"

Ellie looked to Bruce, almost as if she expected to need consent from him. Honestly, though, she was looking for his reaction. "You don't have to do that. It's a very safe building; I don't need someone to escort me through it."

"No, really, I insist," Brian stated, stepping onto the curb as well and leaning back into the car. "See you tomorrow, Bruce?"

"Sure." His friend smiled wanly and they shook hands, before Brian closed the door. The two stood on the sidewalk and waved as the car pulled away.

"Shall we, ma'am?" Brian offered his arm for her to take.

"Why, thank you." She giggled quietly as they strolled into the lobby. "Thanks for walking me to my apartment," she managed, leading him onto the elevator. "Truth be told, I don't like going home alone." _Oh, Ellie, you sounded desperate there._ "I mean… you know, I don't like being alone until I absolutely have to. Like, when I finally get to my apartment."

"I understand." Brian laughed. "Did Bruce mention that you're from New England?"

"Yeah. Maine, actually."

"My family owns a summer house in Bar Harbor," he stated.

Ellie laughed. "Oh, you mean the tourist trap of Maine?" His blank expression silenced her. "I'm sorry, it's just… those towns are beautiful, but, over the years, they're been designed for tourists." She sighed. "Ever heard of Bowdoin?"

He shook his head slowly as they reached her floor. "Can't say I have." The pair stepped off the elevator and started down the hall. There was only one door on each side of the corridor, at opposite ends. Ellie's was the one at the end.

"Well, it's about half an hour outside of Portland. That's where I used to live. Most people don't go up there unless they have to."

"Or unless they're going to Baxter State Park," he offered.

Ellie looked over at him, suppressing a smile. She fumbled with her keys. "I could kiss you for saying that."

"I've been waiting for you to offer all night," Brian replied, slipping his hand behind her neck and leaning in to steal a kiss. She wanted to resist him, but… a million thoughts raced through her head, half a million reasons to do it and half a million not to.

Greg was out of town again; he was always out of town. They had a fight right before he left (over his absences) and hadn't spoken in weeks. She was sure she was going to break up with him. But what if he found out? It would be a weight on her conscience. Damn the conscience! Why was it always repressing her and taking away her fun?

But was it a big deal? It was just _kissing_. She had kissed Bruce before – or let Bruce kiss her, at least.

"Brian, I… can't," she stated, breaking the kiss. "I have a boyfriend." She stared down at the keys in her hands.

"Oh, I…" He grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. So am I." Tears welled in her eyes as her hands finally found the right key. "I'm going to break up with him, but… I can't do this to him when he's gone."

"Gone?"

"He travels. He's in Texas right now." She unlocked her door. "I'm so sorry if I led you on. You're a very nice guy, and, under different circumstances… it would be different."

"But it's not."

"Yeah." She sighed. "Please don't tell Bruce about this. I don't want to make it awkward for him. We can still be friends, can't we?"

"Sure." He smiled kindly. "Friends." Shoving his hands into his pockets, he started down the hall. "So… see you later, then?"

"Bye." She stumbled into the refreshing darkness of her foyer. The brunette waited a second, before allowing her entire demeanor to collapse. She slid down the wall and landed on the floor, crying into her hands. Stupid inattentive boyfriend and stupid guilty conscience and stupid ignorant Bruce… everything had to get in the way.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Kidnapper's Penchant

**Chapter Seventeen: A Kidnapper's Penchant of Opera**

As soon as he got back into town, Ellie broke up with Greg. She did it nicely, in person, never mentioning anything that had happened while he was gone. She told him the truth and then they went their separate ways. Ellie would have liked to remain friendly with him, but understood that he thought she was a tease.

This, of course, freed up much of her spare time, which she subsequently spent with Bruce. She still had her other friends, who she continued to go out with, but almost all of the attention she had spent with Greg was now lavished on Bruce: they stayed late at work (not actually working but talking), had dinner together, or drove out to golf courses on weekends. He still had his life, and she hers, but, without the barrier of Greg, those two lives began to intertwine a little more.

It was early in the summer that Ellie's parents decided to come to Gotham to visit her. They brought along her brother, Woody, and Hannah, who was going off to college in the fall and wanted to see her elder cousin one last time.

On Friday, Ellie began packing up an hour earlier than usual. Bruce didn't notice until she stepped into his office, wearing, not her usual blouse-and-skirt combinations, but a pair of relaxed jeans and a tank top.

"I'm leaving now," she announced, placing a few folders on his desk and turning to leave.

"Where are you going?"

Ellie turned slowly, a look of intense indignation on her face. "My parents are flying in today. I'm picking them up from the airport," she explained slowly.

Bruce felt a jolt of guilt. "That's today?"

"Yes, that's today. You didn't forget, did you?" She groaned. "I've been reminding you for the past two weeks. You're supposed to have dinner with us tonight."

"I know, I was just… hoping to work on some things at home today," he explained quickly. The hurt look on her face instantly made his heart melt. "But I'll come, I promise. The other stuff… it's not that important."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." He smiled. "I'll be at your apartment at six-thirty."

-x-x-

The doorbell rang.

"He's here!" Hannah exclaimed, racing to the door and peering through the peephole. "Bruce is here!" The teenager flung open the door and threw her arms around his neck before he had a chance to register whom, exactly, he was being greeted by.

"Hello, Hannah," Bruce chuckled, as she let him go. "Have you gotten taller?"

She rolled her eyes. "I haven't grown since I was twelve."

Ellie laughed, walking into the foyer and wiping her hands on the front of her apron. "She's actually gotten shorter. She used to be seven-two." The adults shared a quick hug. "Come and meet my 'rents."

She led him into the living room, where the older couple and the boy from the pictures were watching TV. The man immediately turned off the television and rose as Bruce entered the room.

"Bruce, this is my mom and my dad, Anne and George. Guys, this is Bruce Wayne." The three exchanged pleasantries as Ellie sidled up behind the teenage boy, still on the couch, and slapped him on the back of the head. "Say hello to Mr. Wayne," she commanded.

"Ow!" Woody glared up at his older sister. "Fine…" He rose from his seat and mumbled a greeting under his breath. Ellie just sighed and wandered back into the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink, Bruce?" she called. He sidled into the kitchen behind her.

"An apple martini. Light on the apple."

She laughed quietly and continued cutting up pieces of chicken. "Check the liquor cabinet. You can make your own cocktail."

Everyone had finally steeled down and gotten familiar when Ellie started plating the food and placing it on the table. Bruce got a call on his phone, which he stepped into the foyer to take. When he reappeared, Ellie could already tell he was going to bail on her.

"Ellie," Bruce took her by the arms, "I have to go. I'm really sorry, but it's urgent." He kissed her quickly on the cheek, before pulling on his coat and rushing out the door.

"But…" She watched as the door closed behind him. "You didn't even get to eat." She frowned, staring down at the sliced chicken in front of her. Sighing, she set it down on the table and slumped into her chair.

Her mother and father watched her curiously, trying to gauge her reaction: anger, sadness, or disappointment? Finally, Ellie shook her head and straightened her back, smiling weakly at the people seated around the table.

"Well, go ahead; eat."

"Does he always do that?" her mother asked delicately.

"Yeah, pretty much. Doesn't he, Hannah?"

The teenager nodded between mouthfuls of water. "All the time."

"Why do you still work for him?" Tom asked, raising his eyebrows at his older sister.

"I don't know, okay?" Running a hand through her hair, she rolled her eyes. "Can we spend _one night_ not talking about Bruce Wanye, please?"

"This apartment really is much nicer than your last one," her father offered helpfully. "I was a little worried about the last one; it looked like it might have had some sort of infestation, or something. You kept the furniture from the old one, right?"

"Yeah, most of it. Except the bedroom set; Bruce gave me that as a…" Glancing up to the ceiling, she pushed herself back from the table, grabbed her sweatshirt off the hanger, and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

Her guests were left silent for a minute, staring around the table at each other. Hannah seemed the only one not entirely confused or worried.

"Should someone go after her?" Tom asked.

"I think she just needed some air," Hannah stated quietly, shoving her food around the plate with her fork; she succeeded in making a little volcano out of her corn and some small pieces of red pepper.

-x-x-

Hannah had been right: Ellie did just need some air. She got into her car and drove around the city aimlessly, needing the cool summer air in her face to calm her down.

Bruce had made her life better, easier. He'd given her a high-paying job. She'd gotten a nicer car, nicer apartment, nicer clothes. Sure, she paid higher taxes, but it was a lot better than having to worry about how she was going to save up for retirement.

And, on top of it all, she got to work for Bruce Wayne! The only person who saw him as much or more than she did was his butler. He was practically her best friend. He was one of the nicest people on the planet: giving her the great housewarming gift, being someone she could talk to easily.

But he had made her life harder, too. When you accept Bruce Wayne into your life as a true friend, you also get a lot of extra emotional baggage. Like the fact that he ran out on her so often. It had been so easy when she hadn't known him; he could never let her down.

And then there was the nagging fact that she had fallen in love with him.

The city, as always, was abuzz with action. People filtered in and out of clubs, restaurants, and office buildings. Several of the subway landings had scaffolding attached, bright halogen lights trained on them. They were being worked on almost around the clock.

Very soon, almost sooner than she expected, she was approaching the center of the city, with Wayne Enterprises at its very heart. She stared at the skyscraper, standing as a cruel, taunting reminder of her stupid unreciprocated love.

The International Bank of Gotham was dark. Something swept just outside the fringes of her headlights, and she had to slam her foot down on the breaks not to hit whatever it was.

Breathing shallowly, glad she hadn't been rear-ended; she pulled to the curb, feeling slightly shaken and not entirely in the right mindset to drive. She stepped onto the sidewalk, staring up at the monstrous building in front of her.

What was it they told you when you got your driver's permit? Don't drive if you're sad, angry, or excited. Considering that those were her three chief emotions, she sometimes doubted whether she should be driving at all. The fact that she was feeling two out of the three of them at the moment made her a pretty dangerous driver.

As she gazed at the tall, narrow windows of the city bank, a slight chill crept over her. She pulled her sweatshirt tighter, despite the warm summer night. The windows were dark, like long mouths ready to swallow up the occasional passer-by.

And that's when she saw it. Another flicker of movement. But this time it was coming from _inside the bank…_

"Oh, my God…" she muttered, plunging her hand deep into her large bag to find her cell phone. Wallet, sunglasses, tampons… why couldn't she ever find her cell phone?!

Finally, she whipped it out, and had dialed the '9-1' of '9-1-1' before she felt the cold muzzle of a gun against her next. She silently cursed the fact that she hadn't pulled her gun out instead of her cell phone.

"Shut up and you won't get hurt, okay?" a deep voice asked from behind her. Hot breath played against her neck. Ellie nodded. "Put your hands behind your head and walk around the building." She obeyed, and her captor let her into the bank through a back door that may or may not have been securely locked at some point in the past. "I bet you're with the cops, aren't you?" he asked angrily. "Some kind of plant, or something."

"No, I'm not," she replied quickly. "I work at Wayne Enterprises." She was hesitant to admit that she was Bruce Wayne's personal assistant; killing her would be a great way to get some attention.

"I want proof."

"I have my ID in my bag," she stated. "If you let me get it…"

"No!" he barked, snatching the purse away from her. "I'll get it." Still holding the gun to her with one hand, he rifled through her purse with the other, throwing aside her gun with a scoff. "Looks like this didn't do you much good." He finally found her wallet. "Okay. Ellie Harold, Wayne Enterprises. It says here you have top security clearance. You know, come to think of it, it seems like I've heard that name before. Where have I heard it?"

"I used to do a lot of musical theater," she ventured helpfully. "Are you a big theater fan? I was in _Midsummer Night's Dream_, _Kiss Me Kate_, _High Society_, _The Importance of Being Earnest_…"

"Shut up!" he exclaimed, pushing the gun into her skin a little farther. "I'm more of opera kind of guy."

"Oh. Well, I've never been in opera. What high school did you go to?"

"Never mind," he muttered, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. All I know is, seeing as how you're so high up and all, it might be nice to keep you around for a while. Someone's bound to come looking for you."

"My parents died in a fire when I was eight," she lied quickly. "I was an only child. My grandparents live in Mozambique as microbiologists, so I only talk to them once or twice a month. And I don't have any friends to speak of."

"Really?" he asked, picking up her phone. "Let's just check your speed dial." She stiffened as he opened the phone. "Dammit! Why won't it turn on?"

"Oh." She shrugged. "I must have forgotten to charge it. I do that a lot, since I don't have very many friends."

"Yeah, well… we'll see what Frank thinks of you."

"Frank?" She gulped as he forced her down corridors and doorways. "I knew a boy named Frank once, in high school. Junior year. We were in the same play together; he was the nobleman, and I was the servant girl he was in love with. I had such a crush on him." She sighed. Talking was the only thing keeping her from flying off the handle. "But he had a girlfriend. And he was sort of a drinker, too, or so my friend Sarah told me… He smelled funny. Like BO. We had such good chemistry on stage, though."

"I said shut up, okay?"

There was a loud bang, and her arm grew hot. She stiffened as dull pain began to spread across her left arm. When she reached down to touch it, she felt warm, sticky blood surrounding a hole in her arm. It was hard to move it.

"You shot me," she stated numbly, as the pain quelled in her voice. "I… why?"

"Because you wouldn't shut up!" the man shouted. "And if you keep talking, the next bullet hole's gonna be in the back of your head! You got it, bitch?"

"Uh-huh…" Ellie nodded weakly as she clamped her right hand down over the gunshot wound in her left arm. He led her into a dark, quiet vault that held several smaller vaults within it.

"Hey! Frank!" the gunman shouted. Ellie, who was starting to lose some perception due to the tremendous amount of pain, heard a slight echo. "I got someone to meet you!"

Something brushed past Ellie, but she didn't turn fast enough to catch a glimpse of it. She said nothing and did not react. Obviously, if whatever it was didn't want the gunman to know about it, it wasn't on his side. Anyone who was against a man who had just shot her was her ally.

"Frank! Where the hell are you?" the man cried again. They were approaching an open vault. The small trail of a flashlight spilled across the floor, unwavering. Inside the vault, all was quiet. The man turned on his own flashlight. "Jesus!"

"Jesus," Ellie muttered, rolling her eyes to the heavens in a silent prayer.

Another man was lying on his side, unconscious, and tied up. There was no sign of struggle, aside from the gun lying at the other end of the vault. It was like he had just let someone tie him up and had fallen asleep.

"Who the hell did this?" the gunman whispered.

"_I did_."

A figure had suddenly appeared in the corner, somehow shadow and substance all at the same time. Was it real? Or was it a trick of the poor lighting? But that voice had been real.

"Who the hell are you?" the gunman asked, training his light on the figure. Ellie caught a glimpse of the symbol of a bat on the figure's chest, and suddenly felt a glimmer of hope spring within her chest.

"Batman."

The figure almost chuckled; it was hard to tell. Could shadows chuckle? "_Why don't you ask her?_"

"I thought I told you to shut up!" The man raised his hand to hit her.

Everything happened in a flash. The man was going to hit her, but then he didn't. Batman grabbed him and threw him across the room. In the tussle, Ellie got pushed to the floor.

There was struggling for a moment, a gunshot, a loud shout, and then… silence. And then there was rustling, like someone being tied up, and Batman was in front of her again.

Ellie felt the quivering start at her head and slowly make its way down her body. Whimpering, she moved away, trying to get out of his touch. Would he hurt her? How did she _really_ know? She moved into the flashlight beam, and there was a quiet gasp.

"Ellie?"

_How does he know my name? How does he know my name? How does he know my name? How does he know my name? How does he know my name? How does he know my name? How does he know my name?_

Her head fell to the ground. And then… blackness.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Methinks the Lady Doth

**Chapter Eighteen: Methinks the Lady Doth Protest Too Much…**

Ellie came to slowly. She focused on a soft blipping noise, using that to bring herself back to reality, and the sights, sounds, and smells that went with it.

"Ellie?" Hannah asked, her face appearing over her cousin. "Are you awake?"

"Unfortunately," the brunette croaked, closing her eyes again as she was bombarded by the harsh lights. "Where am I?"

"The hospital." Hannah nodded at the older woman's unpleasant expression. "I know. But you did get shot and then passed out." She bit her lip, like she wanted to say more but didn't think it was appropriate. "I'm going to go tell the doctor you're awake."

There was a lot of fussing over her, and her parents even came in for a while. The doctor finally asked them to leave, and took a seat beside Ellie's bed, staring her down seriously.

"I have a few questions to ask you, Miss Harold," he began, a frown developing on his face. "First of all, I'm not sure if I should be the one to deliver this information to you, but I think you should know that you were brought to the emergency room by…" He sighed, as if he couldn't believe he was saying it, "_Batman_."

"I know. He was there when I passed out."

"How were you shot?"

"Some guy at the bank shot me because I was talking too much."

"A bank employee?"

"No. It was really late; it wasn't open. He was robbing the bank."

The doctor seemed amazed she could speak so calmly about this. "Are you aware you could have died, Miss Harold?"

"Well… yeah. But I saw people inside the bank, and I got out of my car to check it out, and the next thing I knew… this guy was pulling me around back. And I guess there was this other guy there, too. Anyway, that was when Batman saved me. Well… sort of. I mean, he was there before I got there. He saved the bank. And then he saved me." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Shouldn't the police be asking these questions?"

"If what you say is correct, then I believe the police have already apprehended the men. Although, I have to say, they seem to be taking the credit."

"I'm sure Batman's used to it by now," she replied, as a very familiar person appeared in the door. "Bruce!" The doctor turned and stared in shock as Bruce Wayne set a large bouquet of yellow roses by Ellie's bed.

"How are you, dear?" he asked, leaning down to hug her. "I came as soon as I heard."

"I'm doing pretty well. I got shot, though, y'know." She gestured to the cast on her left arm. "At least they didn't get my writing arm."

"That would be tragic, wouldn't it?" he asked, smiling down at her warmly and turning to the doctor. "You must be Ellie's doctor."

"Yes, I am." The two men shook hands. "And may I say, Mr. Wayne, what an honor it is to have such a wonderful contributor visit us at the hospital?"

"Well… thanks." Bruce didn't seem too comfortable with the man's blatant brown nosing.

"I was just telling your girlfriend…"

Ellie choked into the glass of water she was sipping from, and exchanged a glance with Bruce. How were they always being mistaken for being "together"?

"She's not my girlfriend," Bruce stated, chuckling quietly. "Just my assistant."

"Yep. We're like… best friends," Ellie supplied, shrugging. It hurt a little. "B-T-W-" She spelled out the letters in sign language, "I'm sort of in pain right now. So painkillers would be helpful."

"Of course." The doctor turned back to Bruce. "As I was telling your assistant, she suffered a minor concussion when she fainted, but the bullet in her arm didn't damage anything too badly. It mainly just hit your bone. You should be out of your cast in a few weeks. In the meantime, we'll give you painkillers, and you probably shouldn't drive while you're taking it."

"That's no problem. I can arrange for you to have a ride to work, Ellie," Bruce supplied.

"He treats me so well," Ellie giggled. "But how will I type? As a secretary, I kind of make my living off typing."

"Type with one hand," Bruce offered.

"How soon can I leave the hospital?" she asked, when the doctor returned with painkillers. Bruce smiled sympathetically; as someone who only ever had to visit hospitals when other people were seriously hurt, she didn't deal very well with being a patient.

"A few days," the doctor replied. "But you might want to follow up with some counseling. A lot of people who experience what you went through…"

"I don't need a therapist," Ellie retorted quickly, icily. "I just need to get back home and get back to work."

"I… I'm sorry, I just strongly recommend, after speaking with your parents, that you participate in some therapy sessions. I'm sure your insurance would cover it…"

"Cost isn't the issue. I don't need therapy," she stated, and that was the end of the conversation. The doctor left soon afterwards, and Bruce turned to her, concerned.

"Ellie, he _is_ a doctor, he's just doing his job…"

"I know, okay? I know. But I lived across the street from a sex offender for a year when I was twelve, okay? If there's anything I've ever needed counseling for in my life, it's that."

"You what?! I thought you grew up in a nice neighborhood."

"I did. But he moved in a year before we moved out. He was living with his mother. The girl he had molested had been my age when they put him away. I was afraid… you know. I was afraid he would do the same to me. I spent an entire summer with my windows closed." She sighed. "Wow, I feel better already. Okay, let's blow this joint. I've gotta get home. I hate hospitals."

"They'll probably discharge you today, if you don't end up in a fist fight with your doctor," Bruce offered.

"He's cheeky…" the brunette muttered. "I don't like him."

"Well, just… don't pick anymore fights, okay? I want to have you around for the next few years."

"Okay…" She laughed quietly and turned to him, her expression serious. "Bruce… Batman saved me."

"Yeah, I… thought I heard something about that," he replied, sitting down in the chair beside her bed.

"Don't do that," she commanded.

"Why?"

"Stand up. Stop making me feel like I'm in a hospital and this is my sick bed."

"But, you _are_ in a hospital, and this _is_ technically your…"

"Don't remind me."

The billionaire laughed, shaking his head. "Was he handsome?"

"Who?"

"Batman."

"Oh." She smiled sweetly. "Yeah, I find those black horny masks and fake muscle-y chest plates real turn-ons." She laughed. "How would I know? It was pitch black and I was kind of distracted by the fact that I had been _shot_."

"Right."

The doctor came back in and announced that the press was waiting to hear from her. "Would you like to speak with some of the local reporters?"

"No." She scoffed, glancing from her doctor to Bruce. "Why do they want to talk to me?"

"Ma'am…"

"_Miss_. I'm not that old."

"_Miss_, you were just involved in an attempted robbery of the city's largest bank. Not to mention the fact that you were delivered to the hospital by Batman himself. And I'm pretty sure they know that you're Bruce Wayne's personal assistant. That's news in this town."

"Well, you can tell them that they'll have to go assault some other innocent citizen," she replied. "Because I'm not interested in talking to them. I barely even remember anything."

That may have been true, but the hospital asked her to stay another night, and, after much poking and prodding from her friends and family, Ellie agreed. That night, she had a very strange and vivid dream…

_She came to once more, and she was in the strong arms of a man. He held her with very little effort as he carried her out behind the bank, where the Batmobile was waiting._

"_Batman?" she murmured, as he placed her in the passenger's seat, making sure to keep her left arm still, and slid into the driver's seat._

"_Ellie, you have to stay with me," he commanded. The dark tone from his voice was gone, and he sounded like… Bruce?_

"_Bruce?" she asked, as if echoing her won thoughts._

"_I'm taking you to the hospital. They're going to take care of you."_

"_Why can't you take care of me?" she muttered distractedly. Her focus was still so bad that she couldn't see him clearly. Had she been lucid, she would have doubted her vision would return before she passed out again._

"_You'll understand soon," he whispered, speeding up. "You'll understand." She began to fade again. "Ellie, don't fall asleep! You've lost a lot of blood."_

"_My body feels tingly," she whined. "And I'm cold."_

"_I can't make you any warmer."_

"_The only part of me I can feel is my arm. Bruce, I want to go home! My parents are there still."_

"_What were you doing out of your apartment?" he asked._

"_I… I got upset because you left." She sniffled, curling up further in her seat. "You always leave."_

"_I know. I promise, after this, I won't leave anymore. I'll stay whenever you tell me to."_

"_Really?" She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed once more._

"_Ellie? Ellie? Ellie!"_

Sobs wracking her body, Ellie shuddered awake. The hospital room was dark, and Bruce snored softly in the chair next to her bed. Her breathing was heavy as she ran a hand through her hair, trying to discern her dream. It had been so vivid; so vivid, she was almost sure it had to be real. But it had actually happened, then that meant…

She stared at the form sleeping beside her bed. There was so much about Bruce she didn't understand, and so much she admired. Ellie had once heard the term "an enigma, wrapped in a question mark," and thought that described her employer to a 'T'. He wasn't a mystery to everyone else, because they thought they knew him. But she was close to him, and realized that there were many things about his life and past that she had no clue about.

Imagining Bruce as Batman was… hard, to put it into the simplest terms. Not impossible, but he was Bruce, and Batman was Batman. Not two unlikable characters in their own rights. But knowing them to be one person, the owner of a multi-billion dollar company by day and a masked crime fighter by night, was a burden she wasn't sure she was ready to bear.

She decided not to even think about until the morning. The morning light was just creeping across the horizon, and she figured she still had a few good hours of sleep left before the movement of day forced her awake and beat her over the head until she couldn't sleep anymore.

Wriggling down beneath the covers, she sighed, conceding, "I really do love him."


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Espera, Espera

**Chapter Nineteen: Espera, Espera**

If you have ever been in the hospital (really, really in the hospital, not in the emergency room, though it holds horrors of its own) you'll know how anxious it makes someone. Consider the fact that the "someone" was Ellie Harold, and then imagine how much worse it must have been for her.

She refused to be carted out in a wheelchair, and Bruce knew it was to save face. Why she was worried about saving face in front of diseased people was beyond him, but the inner workings of Ellie's mind were a mystery. Hannah and Bruce had spoken about it, and they came to the conclusion that Ellie had only been made to stay an extra night because she had snapped at every single doctor, nurse, and orderly that had walked by her door.

Back at home, Ellie was restless but in a fairly good mood. It was understandable to watch her pace, as she had been on her back for nearly three days. And as lazy as anyone might accuse her of being, she really was one person who had to be active.

Of course, this is only what other people saw. Inside, she was reflecting. She wasn't afraid; the men who had shot her were in prison, and she lived in one of the nicest neighborhoods in metropolitan Gotham. But she was thinking, always thinking, about her dream…

It was improbable, but not inconceivable, to believe that Bruce was Batman. After all, she had been present at some of those trips to the basement of Wayne Enterprises… a lot of the weapons down there were very much like the weapons Batman was rumored to have. He had the money, he disappeared all the time, he got unexplained injuries, and he had a blatant dislike for the police… it all made perfect sense.

This didn't confuse her. Logic never confused. But her feelings about the aforementioned logic did. How did Bruce being Batman make her feel? A little relieved, because she knew where he was going when he disappeared. But then… alarmed, because he might be killed every time he went off! And then she felt safe, because she knew he was capable, but the sense of safety quickly turned to fear for his own. But, most of all, she was proud.

Proud that he was willing to defend other people for their rights to live. Proud that she was a friend of someone who would so willing risk their life to ensure that other people weren't harmed. Proud that he had listened to Rachel and not shot Chill (he had told her about that, too, before the whole Batman thing even came up).

But she wasn't one-hundred-percent sure, either. She would have to watch and look more closely for the signs. At any rate, she wouldn't let him know she was suspicious for the next few days. Or ever, if she turned out to be wrong.

-x-x-

The clock on the wall quickly approached ten o'clock. Bruce wanted to stay, but he knew it was approaching that time when he was needed the most, and, after the publicity Batman had received the day before, it was only a matter of time before some other idiot tried to rob a bank, just to be bold.

"I have to go," he whispered, nudging her softly. Her family had gone to bed almost an hour before, and she had fallen asleep on his shoulder watching television.

"Why?" Ellie moaned, eyes fluttering open halfway as she lifted her head from his shoulder.

"It's past my bedtime," he replied, getting to his feet. "Come on, I'll help you to bed."

"I don't want to go to bed."

He smiled slightly. Even half-asleep, she was an obstinate brat. "You can't sleep on the couch with your arm. It'll be bad for your injuries."

She wanted to reply 'Well, you would know all about injuries, wouldn't you, _Batman_?' but sleep and painkillers had robbed her of her quick wit, so she just moaned again and turned away.

"All right, I can see how this is going to be." A pair of strong arms scooped her up, so familiar and so comforting. Even though she was halfway to a drug-induced stupor, she made sure to count this as exhibit A. _Suspect's carrying feels suspiciously like Batman's…_

He laid her on her bed and covered her with her blanket. "Are you hot?"

"I'm dead sexy," she replied, a drowsy smile crossing her face. _Even close to catatonic, she's a smart ass._

"I mean physically. Is your body temperature too high?" How could she always make him feel smart and stupid at the same time? She acted stupid and made him repeat questions more specifically, but he would feel stupid for letting her get him to do exactly what she wanted.

"No, my body temperature is perfect." He placed a pillow under her arm, because her doctor had said to keep it raised at night.

"Okay, are you all set? I have to go now." When there was no response, he turned to leave. The light had been flicked off and the door was almost closed when she called him back in.

"What?"

Her eyes were wide open now. "Stay with me for once." It was a request, not a command. "Please?"

He thought. And then he thought some more. Was he using his exit as an excuse not to get any closer to Ellie? True, it did serve a double purpose. But not getting closer to Ellie meant she stayed safer. Then again, there was no Bat Signal in the sky. He hadn't gotten a call. Ellie _had_ been shot, and she was his best friend…

"I'll stay," he replied, slipping off his shoes and climbing into bed next to her.

"You won't leave?" she murmured, as he drew her closer. He was warm; Ellie was cold, especially her hands, although she had managed not to mention that to him.

"Not tonight."

"Good…" The rhythmic breathing and warm body next to her soon lulled her off to sleep.

-x-x-

The next morning, she woke up just as the sun was beginning to appear over the tops of the buildings. It was so early, that none of the other current inhabitants of her apartment would be awake yet.

Ellie stretched out slowly and carefully. Wielding her broken arm was going to be harder than she thought; her arm gained so much momentum when she moved it that she was constantly almost hitting things.

The night before came rushing back to her (literally, _rushing_, giving her a splitting headache). Bruce had said he would stay. Did he? She glanced to the other side of the bed.

Empty, but the covers were flung aside. He hadn't even had the decency to pretend he hadn't been there.

The brunette fell back to her pillows, defeated. And then, she had a thought. It didn't make sense to lie in her bed and mope about the fact that the man she was in love with (also known as her boss) hadn't wanted to spoon her while she was under the influence of copious amounts of painkillers. Because, the truth was, she wouldn't have wanted to do it if Bruce had been the one near the point of sedation.

Who was she kidding? She would have cuddled with Bruce if he were a leper.

She shuddered. Was her stream of consciousness regressing back to middle school?

-x-x-

The phone rang sometime around midmorning. Everyone was having breakfast, except for Ellie, who didn't eat breakfast, so she volunteered to answer the phone.

Plus, it was her phone.

"Hello?"

"_Hi. Are you feeling better than last night?_"

She smiled at her family and ducked out of the room, heading for the rooftop. "A lot better. The pain killers aren't making me so loopy today." She bit her top lip nervously. "I still remember what happened last night."

Bruce sighed into the phone. "_Ellie, I… I'm sorry. Something came up, an emergency, and I had to go…_"

"You know what? It was an emergency when I was born, but I wasn't in a rush to get to it." She said this more to break the tension than because it was relevant. "How can you have so many emergencies in your life?" She slouched onto a bench.

"_It's… hard to explain. But you have to trust me, it's a really good reason._"

_Yeah, you're Batman_. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore. You left. You said you wouldn't."

How could she do it? Every time. Ellie Harold knew exactly how to make him feel guilty, even over the phone. He had come to the conclusion it was her voice: she sounded twelve, especially over the phone.

"_I'll make it up to you._"

"You always do…" she scoffed. "For the sake of curiosity, how?"

"_I'll think of something… you leave it to me, I will. I'll think of something so great, everyone else who's ever apologized to you will feel awful. They'll feel so awful, they'll want to apologize to you all over again, just because they feel so bad…_"

"Okay, dear, I think you're getting a little carried away," Ellie cooed. "Thank you for the threa – I mean, offer."

"_It's not a threat, it's a promise. You be ready, because I'm going to knock your socks off._"

"I'm wearing sandals."


	20. Chapter Twenty: The UHI Effect

**Chapter Twenty: The UHI Effect Does _Not_ Effect Ice Skating Rinks**

"Are you sure you can't see anything?"

Ellie giggled quietly, squinting to see through the blindfold Bruce had given her. It was just thin enough to see the outlines of buildings passing by, but she didn't recognize any of them.

"I can't see a thing," she lied, her lips curling upwards at the corners.

Bruce could sense her thinly veiled falsehood. "You're such a liar."

"Only because I'm not trying to be."

It was nearly a month after her "accident" (so everyone was calling it, mainly for her sake) and she had finally had her cast taken off. Bruce thought it the perfect time to finally launch his "Apologize to Ellie _Again_" plan into action. So they were sitting in the back of his car, driving through the streets of Gotham, and Alfred was driving.

"Alfred, do _you_ know where we're going?" Ellie asked playfully.

"I haven't the slightest idea, miss," the butler replied. "I'm blindfolded, too."

"What I want to know is, why am I wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants in July, Bruce," the brunette informed her employer. "Especially with the urban heat island effect, and all, which makes the city about ten degrees hotter than most places during the summer."

"I told you, I can't tell you."

"That was a wasted sentence."

"What is the urban heat island effect?"

Ellie sighed. "I hate having to explain this to people … okay, cities are made primarily out of steel, right? And steel is a metal. And what does metal do better than anything else? Absorbs heat. So when you have a square mile of solid metal, what's going to happen? Yep, the heat in the entire area rises. So you have these 'land islands' where the temperature is ten to fifteen degrees hotter than the surrounding areas, all year round. It's really kind of cool, when you think about it."

"And you know about this… how? I thought you hated science."

"Well, I read about it in a Michael Crichton book, and he doesn't just make stuff up, so I researched it myself, to make sure I understood it, because it sounded… cool." She grimaced. "I sound like a total geek, don't I?"

"Absolutely." He grinned, though she could only vaguely make it out. "In fact, I'm thinking I might have to transfer you to our R and D department now. That'll mean a pay cut, and you won't get to see me every day… you'll have to work in the basement, too. But you'll get to wear a lab coat."

"Sounds like a fair trade-off." Ellie shrugged. "As long as I get to look like a doctor." The car came to a stop at the side of the street. "Are we here? Are we here?" she asked eagerly.

Bruce laughed. "Yes, we're here. But you have to keep your blindfold on until we get inside. I can't risk you recognizing this part of town."

"Which means we're in a part of town I should recognize," she inferred quickly. "Which probably means I _won't_ recognize it."

"Oh, no. I think you'll recognize this place." He helped her out of the car and led her though a set of sliding doors (she heard them slide open). A blast of tepid air caught her a little off-guard, and then she sensed that they were in a very large space.

"It's big, isn't it?" she asked, her voice echoing. Despite the fact that, wherever they were, was large, it seemed to be empty.

"Very big."

She sniffed the air. "And there's a lot of ice around."

"You can smell ice?"

"Oh my gosh! We're at the skating rink!" Ellie pulled the blindfold off her head, and, sure enough, she was right. It was completely empty, which meant being able to fall down and not feel like an idiot. "I love the skating rink!"

"I know; that's why I brought you." Bruce couldn't help but smile while she stared around the rink in complete awe. "I know you've been wanting to go for a while."

"Thank you!" She threw her arms around his neck in a hug. "How long do we have it for?"

"The whole day; as long as you want."

"The whole day? The whole day! Ah!" She jumped up and down. "I'm so excited I don't know how to show I'm excited!"

"I think you're doing a pretty good job of it."

-x-x-

"So… so… so… so then Nicole said 'Look at the ducks!' and I told the guy that I knew how to drive a boat. And he made me – AH!" Ellie let out a little squeak as she slipped on the ice. Bruce managed to catch her at the last moment and pull her back onto her feet. This process was not easy, since neither one was a very strong skater.

"What did he make you?" Bruce chuckled.

"He made me second mate! He said if something happened to the boat, and he and the first mate couldn't drive, then I could drive! And the first mate was new, and he docked the boat, and he was awful. We, like, ran into the dock."

"I didn't know those boats at Disney World could be so dangerous," Bruce replied. "I also didn't know you liked to flirt with sixty-year-old men."

"I will flirt with any guy who stands still long enough for me to talk to him," Ellie explained. "Although I was _actually_ flirting with the younger guy. He was the captain."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You like to flirt with _forty-year-olds_."

This time Bruce slipped, and it was Ellie's turn to catch him with lightning speed.

"Good reflexes, Harold," he commended her.

She laughed. "You're so clumsy!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were the one who ran into the wall," Bruce replied as she helped him to a standing position once more. She had to wrap her arms under his to do it, so, when he was finally standing, her arms were wrapped around him.

"This is really fun," the brunette stated, never moving her arms.

"I really am sorry I leave so often," he offered, resting his forehead against hers. It seemed fairly friendly, but there was an unexplained attraction in the gesture.

"I know," she conceded, unwilling to break the embrace. "I know you are. You didn't have to bring me here to tell me that, you know."

"I feel like I have to make all these big gestures to make up for the times I let you down," Bruce explained. "I'm sorry I broke my promise to you and left."

"It's always important."

"Or so I tell you."

Her eyes softened (although they had never been hard, only veiled and distant) and, for the first time in a very long time, he thought she might love him just a fraction's worth of how much he loved her.

"I know why you leave," Ellie informed him.

He leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't the first time they had kissed, but, somehow, this time was remarkable: no one was drunk, no one was confused, and no one was angry. Ellie was the only person who understood him – really his only _real_ friend – and it just didn't make sense to hide anything from her anymore. Maybe he would even tell her about his alter ego.

Ellie broke the kiss. "I know you're Batman."

_There's a place for us,  
A time and place for us.  
Hold my hand and we're halfway there.  
Hold my hand and I'll take you there  
Somehow,  
Some day,  
**Somewhere**._

* * *

Yeah... final chapter. Not to fear, though, because there IS a sequel. I promise, y'all. Seriously promise. Although the next installment will be even more AU than this one, so, if you're heavily invested in retaining the integrity of the Batman storyline, I don't suggest you read on... 

Then again, I don't know anyone who can resist a cliffhanger.

I love you!


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